Shattered
by Zorra del Cielo
Summary: Sequel to Sleeping Beauty: After defeating the Joker, Tim and Cass are on top of the world! But darkness isn't something that can be defeated so easily...and when the darkness strikes too close to home, everything goes to pieces.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by DC comics, and whatever other companies are affiliated with, owned by, or owners _of_ said company. No moneys are gained from this story, as it is only a way of consoling myself from all the _screwy people_ currently writing these characters. Don't sue…you won't get anything, because I don't _have_ anything! And then I'd be forced to stop buying your products, the purchase of which will bring you _much _more income than suing me will.

* * *

Author's Note: Well, hopefully without giving too much away…I'd just like to note, due to recent comic-verse developments…that I was writing this story _months_ ago, and therefore it has _nothing_ to do with said developments! Just wanted everyone to know. Because, like, we wouldn't want to think I was just taking my cue from DC, now, would we? Because…it might _seem_ like I'm _doing_ that after a few chapters…but I'm _not_! Um…yep. That's all I'm going to say.

Enjoy!

Z

* * *

Cassandra Cain, cloaked in shadows and shrouded in the mysterious guise of Batgirl, skipped nimbly across a thin wire stretched between two high-rises. Though she knew that Batgirl was supposed to be serious, even frightening, she couldn't quite hold back a giggle as she flipped off the wire and plummeted a few stories before throwing out a line…flying across the city. Her giggle morphed to a full-fledged chortle of glee.

Batgirl had always been her life…well, not always. But it seemed like all that had gone before was simply _preparation_ for her new life. And while she had always thrilled at the challenge, thrived on the hunt, the capture…and, of course, the family she had been accepted into…she seemed to too often forget that it was just plain _fun_!

But for all that she reveled in being Batgirl most nights, tonight was _special._ Why? Because for the past _month_ she had been _banned_ from it. Forbidden from going out at night, from seeking to do justice…from living her _life_. Which would have really torn her up in the past…except that this time she had had company in her misery. Tim Drake, Robin, had _also_ been banned. And so for the past month they had spent the majority of their free time together. Tonight, in celebration of their reinstatement, they had decided to go out on a joint patrol. And now…now it was just a few minutes away from when they'd agreed to meet.

"Ahhh." She let out a contented sigh as she came to rest on a broad ledge. It was going to be a _great_ night, she could just _feel_ it. She paced the ledge for a bit, impatient for Robin to get there… anticipating the adventures to be had. A movement caught her eye and she turned…then frowned. Apparently Robin was not quite as thrilled to be back as she was.

"What?" He glanced at her, shrugging off her question. She frowned beneath her mask. This wasn't like him! Something was wrong, and if he thought that he could hide it from her… "What's _wrong?_" This time she got a reaction…a slight grin. _Why_ he thought that her question was funny was beyond her…but she would learn. She had been learning a _lot_ about Tim over the last few weeks.

"It's nothing. Well, not _nothing_, I guess…" he scuffed his boot on the rooftop restlessly. "It's…well, it's my dad. He…well, _you_ know how it's been lately!" And indeed she did…though the details escaped her at the moment. In fact, now that she thought about it, she wasn't sure Tim had _ever _given her all the particulars. He had come knocking at her door one morning after having a _huge_ fight with his dad. He had needed a place to stay. She had offered him her old cave, but he had returned home shortly. He hadn't spoken about it since, but he had been spending so much time with her and at the Manor…and every time he arrived from his home he was tense and upset.

"Sorry." She patted him awkwardly on the shoulder, unsure how else to give comfort. He shrugged, dropping the attitude and flashing a killer smile her way.

"Nah, I'm the one who should be sorry. This is supposed to be a celebration, right?" And just like that all traces of stress vanished and in their place were the mischievousness and humor that had first drawn her to him. She cocked her head to the side…how did he _do _that? He wasn't even just _pretending _to be happy for her sake…at least not as far as she could tell...and since she was known for being able to read a person's thoughts through his body language…well, all she knew was that he seemed to have an _amazing_ recovery capacity.

"So….shall we?" She executed a fancy bow and wave along with her suggestion, earning her an appreciative laugh from Robin. She straightened, grinning, though he wouldn't be able to tell under her mask. It was funny how, even after their adventures against Joker and spending most of their free time for the past month in each other's company, he still seemed surprised when she made joke.

"By all means!" He threw out a line but didn't leap. She laughed and threw out her own cable, and they took the first jump together. It was incredible! The plummeting drop, the soaring climb back up, the wind in their hair…well, the wind in Robin's hair, anyway. After a few minutes of just roof-hopping for the fun of it, Robin pointed at something and they came to rest on a tall tower.

"What?" She peered down where Robin had pointed, not seeing much in the dark alley.

"Time to get down to work." She made a face…wondering, not for the first time, if she should have an open mask so that people such as Robin could _see_ her make the face…at his brisk tone. Too much like Batman…albeit too wordy. He jumped down, towards the alley, and she followed swiftly, not wanting to be left behind.

It looked like a mugging, plain and simple. About ten young hoods surrounded a woman, baking her against one of the walls. One young man had hold of her purse and was tugging at it, while the others taunted and jeered and lashed out physically at her. Robin launched himself into the fray without hesitation, but Batgirl held back. Something wasn't right about the scene. She observed for a moment, allowing a momentary distraction to watch Robin take out two thugs at once, and then smiled grimly.

"Gotcha."

* * *

Robin was enjoying this. He had really needed the physical exertion to work off frustrations. Plus, he had to admit that spending time with Cass, whether in her civilian guise or as Batgirl, was a high point of any day. He ducked as two of the gang members rushed him, then twirled, tripping one, sending him head first into the wall of the alley, and catching the other with a kick to the stomach. Another one came at him with a wicked looking knife…Robin just laughed as he disarmed him, leaving him with a rather twisted looking wrist in the process.

It was right about when he was in the middle of bringing down the sixth attacker when he realized Batgirl hadn't joined in the fight. That distracted him long enough for the mugger to land one solid blow…earning the assailant a rather swift retribution which left him nicely unconscious. Robin glanced around, marking the positions of the last four thugs, who seemed to be a bit more intelligent than the first six and weren't as willing to jump him without thought, and searching for his supposed partner. Where _was_ she?

A sudden flurry of movement caught his eye. There she was! But… he frowned and fended off an attack by one of the bolder members of the remaining group. Having easily dealt with _that _threat he turned back to find the other three had disappeared. He noted their retreating figures at the far end of the alley and considered giving chase, but his attention was drawn back to the odd scuffle to the side.

For some reason, Batgirl was struggling with the woman who had been under attack. He hesitated to intervene, after all, she _was _Batgirl and could probably maim him in any number of creative ways were he to make her mad…and besides, she could read body language, right? He was sure she had a very good reason to…

"Look out!" her warning came a split second too late as the woman, who had managed to get loose from Batgirl's grasp and pull a strange-looking gun out of her purse, waved it about wildly, aiming it at them as she backed away. Unfortunately one of her assailants was behind her. He _had_ been unconscious, but was waking up, and his moan of pain startled her enough to let loose a barrage of fire. Batgirl managed to duck and weave, her trained eye noting all the places the woman was aiming and managing to dodge all the bullets.

Robin was not so lucky. A searing pain pierced his arm, the force of it knocking him to the ground. As Batgirl charged in and finally disarmed the woman, he thought he saw some kind of dancing lights…pret-ty. His eyes closed, just for a second, really! The next thing he knew was that someone was quite rudely tugging on his arm.

"Wake up!"

"Mmmnot 'sleeeep."

"Uh-huh. And I'm Batman." He blinked open his eyes at that, wondering when Batman's voice had gotten so high, or his figure so…a rough shake brought him back to a more conscious state.

"Hey wha…ow!" the last was brought on by Batgirl ruthlessly probing his wound with one gloved finger. She cocked her head to the side, then nodded decisively. Robin had a sinking feeling that she'd just reached some sort of decision…one he wasn't sure boded well for his future. But instead of inflicting more pain on his poor tortured body, she stood up and fired off a line. He struggled to rise as well, but a sickening feeling in his gut left him unable to do more than flail about.

"Don't." She crouched beside him again, holding the grapple's motor in one hand and slipping her other arm beneath his arms, pulling him tightly against her. Ok. This was…he could live with this. In fact, he could _really_… before his mind could wander too far into his fantasy Batgirl stood, hauling him roughly to an approximation of standing. "Hold on."

"Wait…" but she was already pulling them upwards towards the rooftops. The sudden movement left him feeling rather nauseated, but they reached their destination without incident. Batgirl propped him up against a short wall on the building's roof, and tugged at his sleeve.

"Let me see." Fearing what may happen to him should she take it into her head to suddenly become a doctor, Robin forced himself to grit his teeth and straighten.

"It's fine. It's just a…"

"Don't say flesh wound." He blinked at the laughter in her voice. He could be _dying_ here, and she was laughing! He was gravely wounded, within an inch from death and… "Stop that."

"Stop _what_?" Honestly, there was _no_ understanding the girl.

"You…are _not_ dying." He gaped at her and she laughed again. "'Tis merely a flesh wound!" she mimicked one of the movies they had watched together over their forced hiatus. "Was a _joke_." She sighed, obviously fed up with the Brainless Wonder.

"Humph." She shook her head at his wordless grouch and tugged at his sleeve again.

"Let me _see_!" He sighed and allowed her to pull up the sleeve and examine his wound. She poked at it again, eliciting a startled "ow!" from him, and then sat back. He craned his neck, trying to see how bad it really was. Unfortunately, his neck was not built to twist that way.

"So…how bad is it?"

"Not bad. Healing already." Ri-ight. Sure. What-ever! If she was hiding it from him it must be _horrible_! Maybe he _was _dying! Maybe the gun had had some kind of poisonous bullet or…

_Smack!_

"Ow! Hey! What was that for?" He rubbed the back of his head petulantly.

"Stupid Robin." She shook her head at him in disgust. "It's _not_ a bad wound. It _is_ healing. You don't believe me…wait!" She snapped her fingers, obviously much struck by her idea. She dug around in her utility belt until she triumphantly pulled out… a makeup compact?

"Since when do you wear makeup? And why would you carry it on _patrol_?" She poised as if to smack him again, and he held up his hands in surrender.

"Black Canary gave it to me. Don't _use_ it. Had to put it _somewhere_." She opened it up and disgustedly flicked the little bits of powder off her glove. "See!" She held it up for him to observe, and he had to give her credit…it _was _a good idea. She scooted around so that she could position the compact's mirror in a way that would allow him to examine his own shoulder.

"Hm." It wasn't as bad as he'd feared…the pain from it had been deceiving. It was truly just a flesh wound…or…wait, what was… "What's _that_?" He reached to poke at the object, but Batgirl's hand shot out, latching onto his wrist.

"Don't!"

"Why not?" He tugged on his hand, wanting it back. The gash not only hurt…it _itched!_

"That's not…not a normal bullet." He leveled a glare at her.

"Excuse me? And how would _you_ even know…"

"'Cause." There was a terseness in her voice that hadn't been there before and he winced.

"Gee, Ca…um, I mean…I didn't mean…." She put her hand over his mouth, cutting him off.

"Stop." She sighed. "I've been shot enough to know, ok? It's not normal. You are healing…too fast. And…you passed out."

"I did not!" She just looked at him until he broke eye contact and kind of shrugged. "Ok, maybe I did."

"It's ok. Something's on it."

"How do you…"

"I _saw_ it, ok? The gun she had…was…weird. The bullets that came out, were…wrong. Coated with something. I think…I think she was taking it somewhere. Those guys just accidentally found her and attacked." Robin thought about that for a second. It would explain his strange reaction…he'd been hurt a _lot_ worse before, without the wimpy fainting effect.

But if it _was_ a chemical reaction he probably should get to the cave, or even Leslie's, to be checked out. Joker's chemical concoctions were still too fresh in his mind to discount them. Though he wasn't feeling any effects now. Maybe it was just temporary.

"All right. So…"

"You should go back." Was that a tone of disappointment he heard in her voice? They were sitting rather closer to each other than absolutely _necessary_…she hadn't moved away from him after showing him his wound. He considered taking advantage of the situation to try to advance their relationship…they hadn't even ever _kissed_…but thought better of it. Batgirl could kick his butt if he did something she didn't like…and since he was currently rather incapacitated…well, let's just say he figured he'd save it for a time he may be able to defend himself.

"Yeah…I guess." Batgirl pushed herself to her feet, reaching down to help him up as well. He stood, experiencing a little bit of vertigo at the sudden change in elevation, but it quickly passed. He turned as if to leave but her hand on his arm stopped him. He glanced back inquiringly.

"I'll come too." He shook his head and shrugged. He didn't really want her to see his weakness, but then again, she'd already witnessed him passing out from a mere bullet wound. He hoped they could find something in the cave's lab to prove her theory that the bullet was strange…that _that_ was why he'd reacted the way he did. He considered arguing, but as he peered over the side of the building he had the distinct feeling that the world was turning upside down. He closed his eyes, fighting the nausea that washed over him. Maybe it would be a good idea for her to accompany him.

"Uh. Ok." He agreed. She patted his arm somewhat awkwardly, then pulled out a line.

"Come on. It's not so bad." He gave her a _look_, but she just laughed. He sighed, pulling out his own line and firing it into the night. He was _sure_ he was going to regret this.

* * *

To be continued… 


	2. Chapter 2

"…did that on _purpose_!"

"Come on, Cass, I did _not_!" They entered the cave squabbling, disturbing the bats in the darkness above. Deciding that it was too far a distance for Robin to try to make on his own, Batgirl had made him show him where his motorcycle was stashed and then insisted on driving it. Needless to say, the ride had taken _years_ off his life, he was sure. It had also played havoc with his innards…a fact which was now at the base of their argument.

"Did too." Batgirl had removed her cowl as she had brought the 'cycle to a screeching halt, and was now in the process of helping him to the cave's infirmary. Alfred looked up as they entered, and Cass pushed Tim towards a bed none-to-gently.

"Oh my. What's this?" Alfred put down the supplies he'd been organizing and turned to see what type of bodily harm his charges had come to _this_ time.

"Tim's gross." Alfred raised his eyebrow, taking in the soiled status of Batgirl's costume and the rather greenish hue on Tim's face, and easily deducted the rest of the story.

"Ah. I see. I suggest, then, that you take yourself off to the showers." With one last scathing glare at the culprit of the unspeakable crime, she stalked out to do just that. Alfred turned towards Tim, who, having slouched down, only half on the bed, was quickly turning colors from green to a rather ashen grey.

"I din't _mean_ ta…" his words slurred a bit and he closed his eyes against a dizzy spell, his head falling back against the mattress.

"Of course you didn't" Alfred soothed, laying a hand against Tim's forehead as a quick measure of his temperature. He was burning up! Working quickly, but gently, Alfred positioned Tim in the bed, removed his outermost layers of his uniform, and started gathering supplies. He noted the reddened area on the boy's arm and frowned down at it. It _looked_ like a scar from a gunshot wound, but he was _positive_ that there hadn't been any such wound on Tim before his patrol that night…Tim had come to the cave to pick up his motorcycle, obviously frustrated from his home life, and hadn't had any trouble moving that arm. In fact, he had asked Alfred for some assistance with a pulled muscle on that same shoulder the night before after a vigorous workout and there had been no sign of damage.

Yet the scar was far too healed to have been received less than three or four days ago. Glancing at his patient's face to ascertain if he remained conscious or not, Alfred probed gently at the scar, managing to break the thin layer of skin that had sealed over it. A clear liquid started to ooze out. Hmmm…infection?

"Never you fret, young man." Keeping his tone light he continued such mindless commentary as he worked. He worked quickly, cleaning the wound, forcing it further open to make sure he got the whole area sterilized. It was after he had swabbed the affected region that he noticed the same object that had caught Robin's attention earlier that night. Unknowingly echoing Batgirl's assessment of the object, he concluded that it was _not_ a normal bullet. But, as it was not in very deep, he simply followed the procedure he'd performed too many times over the years and carefully removed it, keeping it in a little specimen jar as he was sure that Batman would want to scrutinize it later.

"There now. All that remains is…"

"What happened?" Batman's gravelly tone threatened grievous injury to whomever had dared to harm one of his "family". Alfred, well used to his employer's habit of sneaking up on people, simply continued his task of stitching up Tim's arm.

"I'm not entirely sure, sir. Miss Cassandra brought him in…he was mostly conscious at the time, but, as you can see, has fallen insensible since that time. I do believe…ah, here we are." He nodded at Cassandra, who had entered behind Batman. She had changed into simple workout clothes and showered, and was even now trying to work her damp hair into some semblance of order. Her earlier disgust was gone now, replaced by a worry Alfred himself could readily sympathize with.

"How…how is he?" the hesitancy with which she approached the table spoke volumes for her state of mind…she had never been one who wasted time worrying about things but always jumped right into the action. Alfred assumed that it was Tim's stillness that bothered her, after all, she did communicate best through movement, but he wasn't blind, either. Though neither had done anything to indicate otherwise in his, or any of the other family members', presence, he strongly suspected that the two young people were moving steadily towards a serious relationship.

"He is feverish and, as you can see, unconscious. His heart rate is also elevated, though not to an extremely dangerous extent at present. I took the liberty of removing the bullet and cleaning his wound, but I must say, I've never seen a wound heal in just that particular way before. Perhaps you could enlighten us as to what happened?" His query was gentle, exactly the type to put tense nerves at ease, but Cass hated it when people tried to tread carefully around her feelings. She threw him a little grimace, not enough to be disrespectful, but just enough to let him know that she wasn't some silly twit of a girl who might burst into hysterics at any moment.

"In the lab." Batman had picked up the specimen jar Alfred had placed the odd bullet in and was scowling down at it as if the bullet itself were the perpetrator. Cass glanced at him, then back at Alfred. He gave her an encouraging nod and she rolled her eyes.

"Will Tim be…ok?"

"For the time being. Until we determine what's wrong with him we can't so anything for him but let him rest and try to alleviate his symptoms. Your discourse could provide us with the key to his condition." He glanced at Batman as well, considering his next words. "Should I call Dr. Thompson, sir?" Batman pulled the cowl off, signaling his return to "Bruce Wayne", and frowned at Tim's still form.

"Not yet, Alfred. I don't want to bother her if it isn't an emergency. Since his wound is relatively minor, and you've stitched him up, I don't see what she could do for him at the moment anyway." Alfred nodded and picked up a few vials that had been sitting on the counter next to him.

"I also took the liberty of collecting some blood samples from Master Timothy, as well as a sample of a rather strange substance that came out of his wound when I first attempted cleaning it." Bruce nodded briefly, turned on his heel, and strode out of the room, assuming everyone else would follow.

Of course, they did.

* * *

"…and then he got sick on me and I went to shower." Cassandra finished her recitation and looked between the two members of her audience. Alfred was nodding at her, both as encouragement and as a way to let her know he was still paying attention. Bruce, on the other hand, was busily examining the various samples Alfred had collected. Yet she knew he was also retaining and considering every word she said…and probably many that she _hadn't_ said.

"Hmmm." Seemingly satisfied with his conclusions, Bruce turned to Alfred, then paused glancing quickly at Cass. "Cassandra, would you go check on Tim please?" Knowing she was being sent from the room like a two-year-old, but also knowing she really had no choice, Cass did as she was told. But really! What did he expect her to do, anyway? She didn't know the first thing about doctoring somebody.

"Sir?" While outwardly calm, Alfred knew Bruce well enough to know something was _very_ wrong.

"I need you to check out our antitoxin and antivenom supplies. The bullet he was hit with was a combination of a biodegradable plastic made to dissolve in human blood and a strong neurotoxin…I'd say a snake venom, from the genus _Notechis_, most likely a tiger snake, though whether it's from a common or black tiger snake is impossible to tell. It doesn't matter, as all the _Notechis_ venoms can be treated with CSL Tiger Snake Antivenom. I wouldn't start out with much, maybe half a vial.

The bullet also had some kind of healing agent, to seal the impact wound so that it could have time to dissolve inside and release its poison. Luckily it wasn't inside him long enough to release too much of the venom." He stopped, staring into space for a moment as connecting to pieces of a puzzle in his mind. "There's been a rather unusually high number of experimental weapons in Gotham the last few weeks. I know there have been rumors that a call has been put out for such technology…at a high price, too. I want to keep my eye on this." This, apparently, was the end of the conversation, as he shook his head, pulled the cowl back on, and headed towards the Batmobile parked in the center of the cave.

Alfred shook his head, wishing, not at all for the first time, and most assuredly not for the last, that the members of his family didn't insist on putting themselves in harm's way quite so often. He turned, glancing towards the infirmary, but saw no crisis that would require his presence before he completed his task. Instead he went in search of the antivenom needed to save Tim's life.

Meanwhile, Cass had noted Batman's imminent departure, and Alfred's similar disappearance, and hurried after him.

"Batman!" He turned, and she slowed her pace, not really looking forward to the conversation that was coming. Her uneasiness must have shown, for the voice that emerged from behind the mask was more like Bruce Wayne's than Batman's.

"What is it, Cassandra?" She didn't quite meet his eyes.

"I…didn't tell everything before." His disapproving silence prodded her to explain. "I didn't…I don't know if I'm right! I…I didn't want to worry Alfred." Ok, so she lied. So sue her. She really just didn't want to admit her suspicion to herself because that would mean…well, she wasn't sure what it would mean. Which is why she supposed she had to confide in Batman.

"Well?"She sighed.

"The lady, in the alley, she got away…"

"Yes, you mentioned that."

"But…I don't think it was an accident!" There. She said it.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she really _was_ getting mugged, but when she was shooting…she wasn't just firing randomly…she wanted it to _look_ like it was, but it wasn't. She aimed. She aimed _right at_ him and not at his heart or any 'normal' place. She _wanted_ to just hit him, but not let the bullet kill him." She glanced at him questioningly, hoping he'd explain it to her. It felt like it was important, but she wasn't sure _why_. After all, they got shot at all the time…why did this _feel_ different? He considered her words, but didn't say anything. Alfred's reappearance caught their attention and Batman grunted.

"Go help Alfred. I'll work on this." And with that he was gone…before she could utter one word of protest. She glared after the retreating Batmobile. Fine. She'd figure it out on her _own_…though she knew that wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind. Well, she could be a detective too…hadn't she figured out how to get them out of Joker's death trap? Ok, that had been a lot of luck, too…but still.

Her decision made, she hurried back to the infirmary, hoping she could figure it all out before Tim woke up.

* * *

To be continued… 


	3. Chapter 3

Tim wasn't happy. Well…truth be told, he didn't think _anyone_ in the apartment was thrilled at the moment. His injury, received nearly a week past, and completely healed as of two days ago, had brought the tenuous peace between the members of his family to an abrupt and violent end. Weeks ago his father hadn't wanted him to be Robin at all…Dana had thought it was great, but wanted peace between father and son…and Tim, well, of _course_ he couldn't give up Robin. But since their huge argument after a run in with Joker's thugs, they'd both been avoiding each other, despite Tim's promise to Dana that he'd try to work it out.

Well, if he thought getting roughed up by Joker's goons was bad…well, he'd just say being shot and lying in the cave's infirmary for three days had shown him the _true_ meaning of the word. He assumed his dad hadn't continued arguing with him, instead simply demonstrating his displeasure, but not doing anything _active_ about it, because Dana had talked some sense into him. Probably something along the lines of "we're going to lose him forever if you don't chill out!" Or at least something with that basic meaning, though he figured Dana would put it more eloquently than that.

But now his only ally had abandoned him. Scrapes and bruises, even extensive and serious injuries like broken bones, she could handle. The boy she'd come to love as her own being _shot_…well. That was a whole different story. So without her calming influence, his dad had once again begun an active campaign to end Tim's stint as Robin.

"Tim?" He sighed, rolling his eyes. He didn't want to talk to Dana…the traitor. Though, in all fairness, he could see where she would be worried about him. His return home hadn't been too auspicious…as he understood it, Alfred had called that night, with a disguised voice, Dana still wasn't in on everyone else's secret, to let Dana… and his dad, of course, though Tim knew that no amount of consideration would win his dad over…know that he was hurt, but ok. Yet when he had come back…driven home by Alfred, who parked a block away so as not to be recognized…he was still weak from the venom, his face a rather pasty grey, and with the occasional spasm in his legs which, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't quite manage to conceal. He assumed it must have been the first time the real _danger_ of his job had hit home with Dana, and he couldn't fault her for her overreaction. But if he couldn't win her back over…

"Tim, can we talk?" He shrugged, knowing by the sound of her voice that she had progressed from inside the apartment to the rooftop behind him, where she would be within clear sight of his actions. He heard her footsteps, and a whisper of sound as she came to sit beside him. She didn't say anything for a long moment, looking out, instead, over the city. He wondered absently if she thought she was trying to "see things from his perspective".

"So…" He was Robin. He had tailed criminals silently for hours. He could wait patiently for the foulest of the foul to get done with a deal before striking. He _couldn't_, however, sit here in awkward silence with his step-mom for over thirty seconds.

"Tim, you _know_ I think…"

"Not really." He continued to stare off into the distance, not wanting to see shock, anger, or any other emotion on her face.

"'Not really' you _don't_ know what I think, or 'not really' you don't _believe_ I think it? Or wait….maybe you just aren't convinced that I _think…_ is that it?" The humor in her tone finally got him to look over at her. There was uncertainty in her face…and hope, as well. He recognized an olive branch… but wasn't sure he could accept it.

"Dana, I didn't mean..."

"Tim." She cut him off gently. "You're seventeen years old. I don't expect you to agree with everything your dad or I say. I'm not surprised at your reaction. But try to understand…we're not doing this to hurt you…just the opposite! When you…"

"Dana, stop. I _know_ that. Some detective I'd be if I didn't! But what you don't understand, what dad has _never_ accepted, is that this isn't new! I've been shot at, beat up, sliced up, and knocked around since I was _twelve_. And it doesn't matter! I know you think it does, but it _doesn't_. The danger is just part of the job. I have been trained…extensively….to make sure I _don't_ get hurt if at all possible. You have no idea how hard it is for me to convince Br…Batman to let me go out every night.

I know dad thinks that he's an evil demon who's corrupted me and is throwing me into danger, but it's not true. _I_ figured out his secret identity. _I_ convinced him he still needed a Robin. _I _proved myself. I wasn't allowed out at night until I convinced _him_ that I wouldn't be placing myself in unnecessary danger. And any time _any _of us is injured we're _all_ stuck having to work seventy _times_ as hard to convince him not to go psycho on us and keep us in. Dana, you said you understood why I did what I did. You said Batman and Robin were important, were needed. Nothing has changed, except your perception of the situation."

He ran out of words. He had resumed his scrutiny of the skyline of Gotham as he spoke, not wanting to be distracted by any expression on her face.

"I didn't mean to make things worse. I just…you looked so…" she broke off, searching for the best way of putting it. "I was shocked. You're right, I hadn't really thought about the dangers. You were so competent, so confident the night I saw you…it was as if nothing could touch you."

"Most of the time nothing does. But we're protected. Kevlar, flame-retardant materials, special devices for surveillance and defense. And…yes. Some have…well, there have been deaths." He frowned, lost in thought for a minute.

"Deaths?" he heard the consideration in her voice and knew she was putting facts together. "Stephanie. She wasn't mugged, was she? She was involved in…all this." She waved her hand vaguely, indicating the city and all his profession encompassed. He nodded, silently.

"Yeah. But…Dana, I _can't_ give it up. I just _can't_." He waited, wondering what her reaction would be, knowing that not everyone survived the occupation. She sighed.

"Tim…I just don't want to lose you. But I know…" she held up a hand, forestalling his instinctive argument, "that we're probably more likely to lose you by driving you away with all this mess than by you getting killed, right?" she sounded hopeful, and Tim felt himself anticipating her next words breathlessly. "I know you're good at what you do. And you've managed to keep yourself safe this long. Just…promise me you'll be careful out there?"

"Of course. I always am." Well, not _always_…sometimes he knew he got a bit reckless, but she didn't need to know that.

"All right. I…I guess I'll see if I can talk some sense into Jack. At least keep him from the threats against revealing Batman's identity or worse."

"He said that? That he'd reveal Batman's…I _thought_ I'd explained that too him! He…he didn't say, um…"

"Who Batman was?" she finished wryly. "No. But it wasn't hard to figure out."

"_What!_"

"Tim, what other reason would a young teenage boy have for spending 'quality' time with a playboy bachelor, unless there's something _else_ you haven't seen fit to tell us, in which case…"  
"_No!_ Uh…no, no. That's quite all right. Um, well. Ok then." Great. Now he got to inform Bruce that Dana knew _everything_…not just about him. Well, she may not know about Dick, Babs, or Cass…but still.

"Don't worry. You're secret's safe with me. I understand, even if Jack doesn't, what could happen should the world find out that _you're_ Robin. It would be rather suicidal to be broadcasting the fact that you're one of the world's greatest superheroes' step-mom, right?" He grinned at her and she smiled back, ruffling his hair, while he barely contained a burst of laughter. She thought _he_ was one of the greatest? Well, he would try not to disillusion her.

"Something like that." The sun was sinking below the horizon. Even though he wasn't supposed to be out as Robin yet…he hadn't been kidding when he'd told Dana that Bruce over reacted when they got injured…he was planning on heading over to the cave…getting in a good workout…maybe bug Babs on the computer, or run into a certain female crime fighter…

"Tim, I said I'll try to talk to your dad, but I can't keep doing this. You _have_ to talk to him. Explain your position…he's not as unreasonable as you think…I'm sure he'll understand. He's just worried about you." He should have worried about him when he had the chance…_before_ he'd gotten involved in…but Tim sighed. That line of thinking would get him nowhere.

"I…I'll _try_, Dana. But I can't promise anything, really. I mean…I don't know. I just…I just get so _frustrated_…angry sometimes, too. And it doesn't seem to matter how calm or reasonable I try to be, he just doesn't listen!" She nodded.

"I know. But he'll come around. Eventually. It may take awhile but…think of it this way…you had the intelligence to figure out Batman's identity, the courage to confront him, and the fortitude to withstand…well, everything you've been through. I'm sure you can find it within yourself to be patient long enough for Jack to see the light." She gave him _a look_ and he wondered if there was a class or something adults took to learn how to make kids squirm with just one glance.

"All right, all right." She stood.

"You have a good night, kiddo. And, Tim… _be careful_." Like he could get into trouble just working out in the cave. But he smiled at her anyway.

"I will."

* * *

_Thud_! His foot connected with the punching bag in a vicious manner. To an outside observer, it may seem that he was harboring a lot of anger. They would be wrong. Truly they were. He held no anger, no wrath…just pure, unadulterated rage. _Thwack_! Oops. There went the bag. Sighing, Tim stepped back and regarded his opponent dispassionately. He wasn't sure what had gotten him so riled up…he had left the apartment feeling rather better about things after his talk with Dana.

But he felt as if he was being wrapped in cotton. Kept out of the action. Protected. Even after he had gone through every exercise Bruce had required of him, he had been forbidden from going out again tonight. So here he was, beating a poor, defenseless punching bag to a pulp…and for _what_? Why wasn't he back out on the streets? What had he done wrong…to make Batman lose faith in him? Letting out another burst of pent-up emotion, he gave the downed bag another hearty kick.

"Sorry." He whirled, startled at the quiet interruption. Batgirl stood there, head cocked to the side as if contemplating some grave concept. His sudden turn, accompanied by a defensive attack, didn't faze her. She simply sidestepped, ducked, and pulled her cowl down to grin at him. "Missed me." She had _no_ idea, he reflected, but squelched that train of thought before it could get too far down the track.

"Like I could ever do anything _but_." His easy reply was belied by the tenseness still in the way he carried himself. She sighed.

"I _am_ sorry." He gave her a funny look.

"For what? Interrupting 'practice'? No way. I'm glad of the distraction."

"No." she shook her head and decided that this conversation might turn out better if they weren't in a room dedicated to physical violence. "Alfred has cookies." She bobbed her head in the direction of the exit to the Manor. Though she could tell he was a bit suspicious of her odd behavior, he shrugged and followed her out of the gym.

They walked in silence all the way through the cave… Cass pulling a jacket over her costume so she wouldn't get in trouble for wearing it "upstairs" while Tim grabbed a sweatshirt from the locker room… up the stairs, and into the house. Tim kept giving her funny looks. Which was really quite understandable, as she had interrupted him, apologized twice, then changed the subject instead of answering the question _why_ she was apologizing.

Alfred, apparently, had decided that it was time to go to bed…it was, after all, past three a.m. That was…unfortunate. Or perhaps it was a good thing…no one to interrupt. Cass grimaced…as much as she knew this conversation was needed, she wasn't looking forward to it. They found the cookies easily…there was a large plate of them just sitting out on the counter. Of course, they _were_ nicely wrapped and looked like they might be there for some specific purpose…but then again, Alfred should know by now not to leave any such goodies unlabeled if he didn't want them to disappear.

"So…you wanna talk 'bout what's bothering you," Tim broke into the silence around a mouthful of cookie, "or are you just going to mutilate that poor defenseless dessert?" Cass glanced down in surprise. Her hands, completely on their own, she was sure, had been nervously tearing apart a cookie…covering the counter with crumbs. Tim continued, "Of course, it's fine by me if you want to maim cookies to your heart's content, but I'm not so sure Alfred will appreciate the resulting mess." She grinned and shook her head, putting down the disfigured cookie.

"I…um." She shrugged, not sure where to begin.

"Let's see…I think it started with 'I'm sorry'…and we never quite got past that part." She nodded, resigned.

"Yes. I _am_ sorry."

"For _what_!" He threw his hands in the air, exasperated, and managed to toss the remainder of his cookie across the room. "Oops." Cass laughed, but then sighed, sobering.

"I…when I came here tonight, I was…well, I _had_ hoped to find Batman. I needed to talk to him. But I saw you there and you were…you were very angry. Frustrated. And I knew it was my fault."

"Your fault? What the…how could you _possibly_ think that it…"

"Because." She wouldn't quite look him in the eye. "I told Batman….the night you got shot. I _told _him."

"Told him _what_?" Tim shook his head. "Cass, you aren't making any sense! Are you feeling ok?" She rolled her eyes.

"I told him that you got shot on purpose."

"_What!_ I did _not_! What are you…"

"_No_! That came out…wrong! That was wrong!" She dropped her head into her hands, shaking her head in frustration. "I dinnmn thht"

"Ummm, I didn't understand that." She growled, she actually _growled_ at him.

"I _said_ I didn't _mean_ that!"

"Ok! OK! Calm down! Sheesh." He held his hands up in surrender.

"I meant the lady _shot_ you on purpose."

"Uh, _yeah_. Don't they all? I mean, it's not like all those gang members and rogues and henchmen just _accidentally _start shooting."

"But…"

"I think you maybe just were tired? Upset? I _did_ get sick all over you, after all…um, did I apologize for that, by the way, because I'm _really_ sor…"

"Tim!" She actually lunged across the countertop to grab him by the front of his shirt.

"Hey! Um, did you want to say something?" He realized he hadn't been on the wrong side of Cass' wrath before, and wasn't really looking forward to the pain promised in her stance. But instead of hurting him, she relaxed, releasing her vies-like grip.

"Tim. I know you don't get it. I _know_. I don't get it. I think maybe Batman gets it…but maybe not…and he won't explain it anyways. I just…she looked _right at me_ and then shot _you._ Why? Why did she do that? _Why_, Tim?" She looked at him as if he had all the answers and he found himself wishing he _did_, just so he wouldn't disappoint her.

"Uh…I don't know. Maybe it was the costume?" he asked hopefully, thinking the bright colors of his uniform made a much easier target than Cass' black.

"No. She didn't aim at your costume. She just wanted to hit you, graze you even, to get the poison in you. She knew what she was…"

"Cass…so what? We always get shot at. So she wanted to shoot me and not you…_so what_? Maybe she's a crazy extreme feminist who thinks all men should die. I _don't know_. But it doesn't change anything. Any time we go out there we could get shot at or stabbed or…we _know_ it's dangerous! I don't get what you're so concerned about!" Cass didn't either. She could see all his points, why he didn't think it was a big deal, but…

Why hadn't Batman let him back out at night? It seemed that _he_ thought it was important. Or did he really not trust Tim as much anymore, like Tim feared?

"Cass?" He sounded worried. And no wonder, as from his point of view she was really acting strange. She sighed.

"Nothing. You're right." She hoped her tone and the smile accompanying her statement were good enough to convince _him_. He stared suspiciously at her for a moment, then shrugged, apparently deciding it would be a waste of time to try to figure out the way her mind worked.

"Ok then." He took another cookie, shoving it into his mouth. Cass, realizing that during her attempts at figuring out the strange suspicions she harbored she had worked up quite an appetite, grabbed two of them at one time.

"What is going on in here?" Both teens looked up guiltily at Alfred's shocked tone, Cass belatedly recalling her crumbled mess and Tim remembering the "one that got away".

"Um…"

"Er…" Cass hurriedly swept the crumbs into her hand as the two of them backed towards the exit.

"Ahem." Alfred held up Tim's missing cookie with a raised eyebrow. A twinkle in his eye belied his wrath.

"Yeah…see, um…" Tim _actually_ shot a look of desperation at Cass, as if _she_ could come up with an explanation.

"These cookies _were_ for the workers at Dr. Thompson's clinic." Oops. Alfred always went down to Leslie's clinic on Wednesdays to help restock supplies, raise morale, and generally lend a hand in any way necessary.

"We're really sorry!" Yep. Cass was now the apology expert. Tim supposed that, having apologized to _him_ so many times tonight, she had decided to keep up the good work. That was fine with him…he nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, we didn't know!" Alfred shook his head sternly, but then, with his classic wry humor, pulled open a cabinet revealing two more large platters of cookies.

"Very well, then. I _suppose_ I can let you go free _this_ time." They grinned at him, appreciating his joke. Seizing the opportunity, they escaped down to the cave, their troubles forgotten for the moment.

* * *

To be continued… 


	4. Chapter 4

"No, I _don't_ have the location up yet and if you don't….I what? Oh, _right_…'cause _that_ will get you completely off the…well _no_ I don't have any idea…what? Ok…ok, hold on." Barbara swiveled around to type in a few commands and … "gaah! Do you _have_ to do that?"

"Of course." Nightwing dropped easily into a chair that had been left in the room from the last time he'd been by.

"Aren't you supposed to be in Blϋdhaven? I swear, you spend more time here than…"

"What, aren't you glad to see me?" He gave her a puppy-dog look. Despite herself, she laughed. He grinned at her and she shook her head.

"Of course I'm glad to see you. I'm just…what? Oh, sorry. No, it's…yeah. Heh. No…you sure? Makes sense." Nightwing shook his head as she turned her attention back to her headset. "Oh! Haha, yeah, ok. See ya when you get back." She pulled the set off her head and turned back to him. "Sorry, Dinah was lost in Panama."

"Cool." She raised an eyebrow at the short answer.

"As I was about to say…whatever happened to 'your own city' and not wanting to live 'under His shadow'? I mean, I thought…" Nightwing sighed and removed his mask.

"Yeah, well…y'know…" he broke off, rubbing his hand over his face. Babs frowned at him, concerned.

"Dick, are you ok? You look…"the word _great_ popped into her head, though that was normal. But also… "a little, um, tense." And he did. The normal buoyancy she usually associated with him was gone…a harder, more ragged edge had taken up residence.

"I'm fine." But he didn't even sound convinced of that himself.

"Dick…." Her voice held a warning tone.

"Ok, ok. It's just, Blockbuster, y'know. He's been…well, he's really getting….he…I dunno." But Babs knew. She hadn't seen him in awhile, but she kept tabs on all her "people". Blockbuster had been trying to destroy bits and pieces of Nightwing's life…and sometimes succeeding. He had caused a fire at Haley's Circus, managed to blow up the storage building where Nightwing's equipment was kept…it was obvious the man knew entirely too much about the man behind Nightwing's mask. And in typical Bat fashion, Dick had refused to ask for help, accept help, or even acknowledge that he may _need _help! All this had happened since Dick had been in town a month ago to try to help take down Joker on his latest rampage. Babs had a feeling it was only a matter of time before Blockbuster struck in such a way that could destroy Dick…physically, mentally, or _both_.

"Dick, why don't you let…"  
"_No_!" He sat back, forcing a relaxed tone to his voice. "No, Babs. It's fine. And don't forget what happened _last_ time you messed with Roland. We don't need him going after you too!" She glared at him, but couldn't really come up with a good retort. He had a point. She had managed to hold her own against Blockbuster and his goons for awhile, but in the end, she'd had to be rescued…an experience she wasn't in a hurry to repeat.

"I _still_ think that you should…"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Babs sighed and wheeled towards him.

"Dick?"

"Uh…..yeah?" His eyes sort of crossed as she walked her fingers across one of his knees.

"Promise me you'll call for backup if things get out of hand."

"I…whoa, _what_?" He stood up, pacing restlessly. "What _is_ this? You don't think I can…I can't believe you would…arguh!" She wheeled towards him, needing to catch him before he decided to take off.

"Dick..._Dick_….Richard Grayson, sit down this instant!" Apparently her Alfred impression was up to par, because he sat. "I am _not_ disparaging your fighting abilities, or your intelligence, _or_ anything else! I'm just trying to make sure you don't get so caught up in something that you forget you're not in this alone. Just…ask for help if you need it. Don't let your pride get in the way. That's all I'm asking." He considered her words, rather enjoying her impassioned outburst.

"Ok, ok. I promise." He reached towards her, and she batted his hand away.

"I have work to do!"

"Tell Dinah to take the night off." He flashed her a wicked grin, the twinkle back in his eye.

"I am _not_ going to do any such thing!" She tried to look stern, but failed, her resolve faltering. She cleared her throat and tried again. "If you want to play, you'll have to wait. I have stuff to do!"

"But…"

"No buts. Go burn off some steam out there or something." She waved absently towards the window. "Come to think of it, I'm sure you haven't tormented either of the 'kids' lately…have you?" He sighed as if the world was coming to an end, then grinned.

"Why, Miss Gordon, _that_ is an _excellent_ suggestion!" He replaced his mask and in one fluid move was back at the window. "See you in an hour?" He tumbled backwards before she could reply, but she yelled after him anyways.

"_Two_! I won't be…oh, never mind." She shook her head fondly, but soon put him out of her head as she resumed her research.

* * *

A dark shadow slid through the night, easing through the blackness like a shark through deep waters…like a panther stalking its prey…like a…

"You are so weird."

"Eep!" Robin would have _sworn_ he jumped a mile rather than simply starting at the sound of her voice. He was quite grateful for the darkness that hid the deep red hue he was sure was quickly covering his face. "Do you _have_ to do that?" he asked peevishly.

"Was funny." Batgirl shrugged. "You were being…"

"Ok, ok…I know. 'Weird'". Well, he couldn't help it, really. His first night out in over a month had ended up with him being shot and kept off the streets for another _two_ weeks! Six weeks was _more _than enough time to go stir crazy, and so if he was in high spirits…acting a little "weird"…well, so be it. At least he was _free_! He grinned at Batgirl, not really caring at the moment if she thought he was crazy, ill, or just plain nuts. She shook her head.

"We-eird." He just laughed. She turned to look out over the city. "You find someone to hunt?" He glanced over at her quizzically, not sure what she was talking about.

"Huh?"

"You were…hunting…stalking…being weird…" he laughed, "like you saw someone or something to go after." He straightened and looked around, remembering his "prey".

"I wasn't being _weird_. I was just…"

"Happy?" He peeked back at her. Of course he _knew _she could read body language…but sometimes it still freaked him out when she did so.

"Yeah…happy." And he _was_. He was back out at night as Robin, he had managed to go five minutes without being shot, and…and he had squeezed in a conversation with his dad without either of them managing to kill the other! Of course, it had been a very _short_ conversation…along the lines of:

"Hi."

"Hi."

"So…how was your day?"

"Fine. Yours?"

"Same."

"Ok."

"Ok."

But…it was a start. A _small_ one, but still…apparently his thought process was taking too long, as Batgirl shifted a bit and nudged him with her elbow. Her very _sharp_ elbow.

"Ow. What?"

"Wake up."

"I _am _awake…I…" he sighed, realizing she was just teasing him. "Sorry. You asked a question?" She cocked her head to the side, studying him for a moment.

"Yeah. You were going after someone. But now they are gone, I'm sure." There was a hint of accusation in her tone, but just a _tiny _hint…as if she would be upset that a potential target got away, but only if there wasn't some bigger problem bothering Robin. He grinned.

"Oh yeah! It wasn't what you're thinking…I was just hoppin' over the rooftops and I saw a familiar face…one that has been rather scarce around here lately. I _had_ thought to catch up with him…give him a bit of a scare…but…well, like you said." She thought about it for a second and he could picture in his mind the look on her face as she worked through the problem…first she'd scowl, just a _small _one, then her face would clear, becoming expressionless as she wouldn't want anyone to know what she was thinking, and finally she'd smile…and that was the part he wished he could see. Because, as she did with everything else, when Cass smiled she threw her whole being into it, and for just a second he could feel like _he_ could read _her_ thoughts, and they were happy and funny and light and…

"Nightwing!" He blinked. Well…that wasn't _exactly_ what…oh, yeah.

"Hm? Yeah…I thought it was weird for him to be out here…didn't even call to let us know he was coming!" She giggled at his affronted tone. "Since he was heading in the _opposite _direction from the clock tower, I'd suspect Babs has already seen him…probably too busy right now…so I'd guess he's looking for one of _us_ to bug. So I'd thought to get to him first, and bug _him_ for a change." He grinned and she laughed again.

"You want to…find him?" He glanced at her in surprise and she shook her head. "Why do you keep thinking I don't…have fun? I have fun! I…" he reached out, placing one gloved finger against her mask, cutting off her outburst.

"That's _not _what I was thinking. I know you have fun…you're very fun…I mean… ahem." She found herself glad her mask hid her face, as she couldn't help grinning at the bright red flush creeping up his face. "I was just…I thought maybe you'd rather get to work…I mean I hadn't thought you'd want to play pranks while on…I mean." She couldn't help it. She laughed…loudly and with great delight.

"You're silly." He pulled back, offended.

"Well I didn't…" She grabbed his arm, pulling him into a darker patch of shadow.

"Shh!" He fell silent instantly, relying on years of training and instinct to determine what the danger was and where it was coming from. One shadow detached itself from the others, easing forward, seeking to discover to where they had disappeared. As the figure slid into the light, Robin tensed. Why that little…

"Gotcha!" Batgirl sprang from the shadows completely catching her target off guard. He thrust up one arm to ward off her attack, trying to drop into a sweeping kick stance. But she was better…of course. She knocked him down, cuffed him, and sat on him…grinning back triumphantly, though he wouldn't be able to tell through her cowl, at Robin who'd emerged from their hiding place to watch and was leaning casually against a wall, arms folded across his chest.

"I would say nice work…but as I wouldn't want to distract you from the _scary_ villain…" she looked back down at her captive and shrugged.

"Not scary. Rather…puny. We should…throw him back?" This startled a laugh out of Robin...he wondered where she'd been exposed to fishing concepts…and he strode forward to examine her "catch".

"I don't know…maybe tossing him in the river would be too good for him. I know! We could publish pictures of him in compromising situations with…um…lessee…Poison Ivy, maybe….or, ooh! Tarantula, or Huntress, or…" Batgirl was laughing too hard to keep a good hold on her captive and he managed to knock her over and rise.

"Very funny. Very funny." Nightwing made a show of dusting himself off.

"What?" Robin grinned at him innocently. "You woulda done the same to us, I'm sure!"

"I wouldn't have threatened you with potentially life-threatening retribution!"

"Life-threatening?" Batgirl cocked her head. Nightwing leveled a look at Robin, which he could plainly interpret, and he felt his face heat up again. Well…it wasn't as if he and Cass were…

"Let's just say…when one's dating an all-seeing, all-knowing, all-_controlling _being…it's best not to upset them overly much with rumors and innuendo." He grinned, though, letting them know he forgave them their prank…that, or simply anticipating revenge.

"So…slow night?" Robin tilted his head in the general direction of the clock tower with a smirk, letting Nightwing know that _he_ knew _exactly _what brought his "big brother" to town. Nightwing shrugged.

"Well, you know how it is…forget to bring flowers and you're in the dog house." He heaved an exaggerated sigh. Batgirl shook her head and gave him a shove.

"You're silly." She looked between the two of them, examining them. "_You're_ silly, and _he's_ weird…and _I_ am leaving. You patrol…have fun…" she shook her head at them in mock, or so Robin _hoped,_ disgust and leapt off the building. Nightwing laughed and clapped Robin on the back.

"Someone's been spending too much time with Oracle, I think." Robin looked at him quizzically, so he elaborated. "She's learning the art of true womanhood, Bro…completely baffling the members of the opposite sex!"

* * *

To Be Continued 


	5. Chapter 5

"I got him! I…_hey!_" Robin stumbled backwards, slamming into a brick wall.

"Well, you _said _you had him!" Nightwing laughed at him as he flipped over another of the attackers. Robin shook off the impact the flying body had caused and grinned. He pushed off from the wall and rammed into a big guy, hitting him solidly in the stomach. The man went down with a grunt.

"Well, that's three down…only…how many would you say?" Robin glanced around.

"Oh…I dunno…ten, twenty?"

"There are _not_!" Robin laughed as he moved, lashing out, connecting with solid flesh. An idea struck him and he frowned down at the unconscious men scattered about. "Hey…you know who these guys are?"

"Nope. Who?" Robin rolled his eyes behind his mask.

"I didn't mean 'hey look who these guys are'! I meant it seriously! I don't recognize them."

"So? You know every two-bit thug in Gotham by name and face now?" Robin smiled, ducked a flying fist, and retaliated with a solid kick to the man's abdomen.

"Of course not! I just…" he shrugged. "I don't know. They seem more well-trained than most street gangs…not really two-bit thugs at all. And check their accents! They're out-of-towners, and….hold it!" He shoved one of the men up against the wall roughly.

"What?" Nightwing grunted as one thug managed to land a blow to his stomach.

"Ummm….hold on." Robin leapt, using his bo staff to _thwack_ one guy across the head, putting him out cold. That left only one remaining, and Nightwing had him subdued within moments. Robin bent down, pulling a strange device from one of the attacker's pockets. "See?"

"Not really. _What_?" Nightwing took the device from him. "It's a….hmmm."

"A weapon, I'd guess." Nightwing shot him a sarcastic glance.

"No kidding. What gave you that idea?"

"Well, the gun I was shot with was strange, experimental…and Al-um" He glanced around at the _supposedly_ unconscious thugs and rethought that statement. "I was told that Batman mentioned that there was a lot of prototype weaponry here in Gotham lately." Nightwing glanced at him sharply.

"'The gun you were'…_what the_…was anyone going to see fit to tell _me_ about this?" Robin blinked at him, surprised by the outburst.

"Um…sorry? I figured you knew." Nightwing mumbled something unintelligible under his breath. "I'm _sorry_! I…what am I apologizing to you for! _I_ was the one who got shot!"

"Sorry, bro. Been out of the loop too long, I guess. I've been…well…never mind." He schooled his features into a semblance of ease, but not before Robin saw the dark shadow flit across his face. Well…if Nightwing wanted him to know, he'd tell him…well, he _hoped_ he'd tell him, anyway.

"No problem. It wasn't a big deal...a flesh wound" Ok, so he lied. He could do that…as he'd told the Titans, he lied to _Batman_…not often, of course…and never without getting caught…yet. But if Nightwing was struggling with his own demons, he didn't need to be worried about an old wound of _his_.

"You _sure_?" Robin nodded. He had the impression that Nightwing didn't _quite _believe him, but was letting the matter drop.

"Anyway, that gun was experimental, and _this_ thing is decidedly freaky…think there's a connection?" Nightwing shot him a wry look.

"You think there's _not_?"

"Point." Robin examined the device. "I wonder what it…"

"Don't even go there." Nightwing snagged the weapon out of his hand, eliciting a squawk of protest from his "brother". "You know better! We'll check it out in the cave..._with _all the proper precautions and safeties in place!"

As they headed off, neither noticed the dark shadow that was trailing them. They disappeared around a corner and the figure dropped to the ground, examining the tied-up villains. She was silent…simply taking everything in and storing it away mentally. Something _was_ going on…she'd bet on it. And she found herself inordinately glad that she'd decided to follow them tonight. Robin might not be willing to confide everything in Nightwing…well, Nightwing was holding out on Robin as well….so it was up to her to put the pieces together. A grim smile flashed briefly across her face. Who'd have ever guessed detectiving could be so…addictive?

* * *

A machine hummed to itself in the darkness, the only discernible sound in the vast cavern. Three figures stood huddled around it, apparently entranced by the blinking lights put out by a display panel on one side of the device. Without warning, a loud _beep_ sounded, echoing through the chamber. As if released from some kind of control, the three figures began to move.

"I _told_ you it wasn't dangerous!"

"You did _not_! You just _assumed_ and tried to…"

"_That_'s beside the point!" Robin cut the older man off, glancing furtively at the larger, _darker_ figure who was placing the weapon in a vault with the other confiscated weaponry. After his conversation with Cass the other night, he couldn't shake the feeling that Batman may be hiding something from him. He knew _logically _that it was a silly paranoid suspicion, but still…

"Good work." That was _it_? Not that he should be surprised, Batman was notoriously terse…but it just reinforced Robin's already overactive imagination when Batman simply locked the vault, nodded at them, and stalked out of the chamber, heading towards the Batmobile without another word.

"What's with _him_?" At least he wasn't imagining things if Nightwing saw it too. Robin shrugged. He'd already decided not to worry Nightwing about his being shot…not to mention Cass' suspicions and Batman's strange behavior.

"I dunno." Short and sweet…that's it. Don't give anything away. Nightwing considered him for a long moment and Robin knew he'd blown it. Turning, he started towards the exit, only to find his way blocked by a black-and-blue-clad arm. Sighing, he turned back, mentally building up a defense against all of Nightwing's attacks.

"You going to tell me what's going on?" His tone no longer light and joking, Nightwing glared down at him, pulling his arm back and crossing them across his chest. Robin mimicked him, twisting his mouth into a wry semblance of a smile.

"No." Nightwing attempted to use _the glare_ on him, but since Robin had been exposed to the best, it didn't have much effect.

"I think you'd bett…"

"_No._ No. You have enough going on that you don't need _my_ problems on your plate." Whoops…he hadn't meant to bring _that _up again. He wasn't even supposed to _know_ about…

"What do _you _know about _my_ 'plate'" There was a bitter tone in his voice that was unusual…and Robin sincerely regretted reminding him of the problems he'd been facing lately.

"Ummmm." What to say to that? He had heard rumors…it was amazing how quickly news spread in the superhero world…and had followed up with his own brand of "research" while he was out of action. Well…he hadn't had anything else to do! And he had been concerned…the rumors had ranged from Nightwing getting a beating by Blockbuster, to Blockbuster blowing up Dick's apartment building…it had just been a warehouse in truth…to Blockbuster killing Nightwing or visa versa! Most of them had been proven to be exaggerations or misrepresentations…or, considering that both were still alive and well, just plain lies.

"No…no. Never mind. Forget me. Tell me what's going on with you." Robin shrugged.

"It's really nothing! I swear!"

"_Ri-ight._ And that's why you and Bats are barely on speaking terms…"

"_Me_? He's _never_ on…"

"Why the secrecy about you getting shot…why…"

"There wasn't…!"

"_And_ why you've been avoiding looking me in the eye ever since you found out I didn't know!" Robin sighed. He really wished he'd never brought the subject up. He didn't _really_ think _anything_ was going on…it was just a feeling, and not even his _own_ feeling, either…Batgirl had been the one to freak out! Well, he supposed it wouldn't be fair to say _that_…Batgirl pretty much _never_ "freaked out". That was the problem…she had an irritating ability to be _right_ about things, hunches, especially when based on her "reading" of somebody. And since that's where this all began…now Robin couldn't shake the feeling _either_.

"It's really nothing. Honest. I just…I got shot with an experimental weapon that had a snake venom derivative in the bullet. Y'know, extra insurance… if the bullet doesn't do the job, the poison will. But Batman had the antivenom, and I'm fine now." Nightwing simply stared at him, waiting for the _rest_ of the explanation. Robin ran his fingers through his hair in agitation.

"Ok! So…you're right, that's not the _whole_ story. I just…it doesn't have a lot to back it up…the rest doesn't, I mean. It's just hunches and feelings and not even any _reason_."

"Well?"

"Well…Batgirl thought that something was weird about the lady who shot me, I guess. I can't explain it, because she didn't explain it to me very well. She said the woman shot me on purpose, which makes perfect sense to me, but for some reason Batgirl doesn't see it that way. I don't think even _she_ knows what's bothering her about the attack, but she just felt that something was…off. And then, after, Batman had me back on inactive duty for two weeks, even when I felt I was ready to go."

"Yeah, well, he's like that."

"I know. But…again, I felt like he was…almost protecting me or something. More than usual. I don't know why. Like I said, all hunches and feelings." He shrugged. Nightwing glanced away, thinking.

"You said you didn't recognize the gang we were fighting. You think there's a connection." It wasn't a question. Besides, Robin had already confirmed it earlier.

"Well, obviously. I mean, experimental and weird weapons being brought in to Gotham…these guys obviously packing…not too hard a conclusion to some to."

"I mean, connected to _you_."

"What? I don't know about …"

"Let me refresh your memory…you got shot with a strange weapon, Cass thinks the lady was gunning for you specifically, and the bunch we beat tonight came out of nowhere to swarm all over us…or maybe just all over _you_. Sound about right?" Robin blanched. He hadn't thought about it in quite those terms before. Could he be right? Were they not only connected through the weaponry, but through _him_?

"I really don't think that this is really about…" he was cut off as Nightwing held up a hand.

"I don't know what's going on in Gotham these days…Babs didn't mention anything, and I've been…well, um…busy. But you know, just because a gut instinct doesn't have evidence to back it up, doesn't mean it's wrong."

"Just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean they're not out to get you?" Robin asked wryly. Nightwing laughed.

"Something like that. I'm not saying to wig out and start jumping at shadows, but it never hurts to be careful. So…just be extra careful for awhile, right?" Robin nodded. Made sense. "Now… what say you we go back out there and kick some bad-guy-butt?" Robin grinned.

"Sounds good to me!"

* * *

"Did you forget the popcorn _again_?" Tim rummaged through the bags of food they'd bought in preparation for their movie night. After a successful week of nightly patrols, one _without_ further suspicious activity, they had felt the need to celebrate…not that they needed much encouragement these days…and decided to chill out with a movie and snacks before heading out later.

"No." Tim dug some more.

"Are you sure? Because…"

"There." A package came flying from her general direction to whack him in the back of his head. He glanced down at a box of microwave popcorn lying at his feet.

"_Thanks._" He made sure his answer was dripping with sarcasm before turning to glance at her. She was picking through a bag of her own, tossing the snacks she didn't want unceremoniously to and fro. Tim rolled his eyes. "What are you looking for?"

"Um…" She turned the bag upside down, shaking it. When nothing further came out she threw the bag across the room. "Where _is _it?"

"_What_!"

"The…the…that fluffy candy stuff!" Tim blinked.

"You bought cotton candy?" She gave him a look and he held up his hands in surrender. "Not that that's _weird _or anything…um, so what movie did you get?" he smoothly changed the subject. Cass and her junk-food were an issue that he didn't care to get into. While she ate well when others prepared the food for her, she hadn't been exposed to the "normal" kid treats like candy, pop, or other junk food when she was younger, and so had developed an almost-obsession for them when she was movie-watching or just hanging out. Pizza was on the top of her list, a few types of chips, colas, and, more recently, she'd been testing out all kinds of sweets. A display of cotton candy had apparently caught her attention on this particular trip to the store.

"I thought _you_ were getting the movie!" She pulled out a small bag triumphantly and flopped down on the couch to enjoy it. Tim stared at her for a second, then laughed, dropping down beside her.

"What a pair we make…both so intent on the food to _eat_ with a movie, that we forget to get one to eat it _with_! You have any here?" Cass looked up from her cotton candy for a second, a few colorful strands sticking to her fingers.

"I have….mmmm….I dunno." She waved towards the entertainment center. "Babs brought some, I think." Tim hopped up, walking over to examine her collection.

"How 'bout this one?" he held up an older adventure film. Cass shrugged and he frowned at her. "What's with you tonight? This was supposed to be a relaxing, _fun_ evening!" She looked away, shrugging.

"I…don't…know. I just…you know how you just _feel_ like something's about to happen?" He nodded, sitting back down next to her.

"Yeah, I've had that feeling…but…do you have anything to back it up?" She shook her head.

"Just…I guess it's been too quiet?" She glanced at him in query, as if unsure of her own feelings.

"Probably. I'm sure that's it." She stood, pacing a bit.

"Do…do you remember the gang you and Nightwing fought?" He blinked at her.

"How did you…?"

"Um…" she blushed a little. "I was…following." He ginned smugly at her.

"If you wanted to hang with us, all you had to do was _say_ so." She hit him with a pillow, and a short wrestling match ensued. When they finally stopped laughing long enough to catch their breath she sighed.

"I didn't want to mess up your night. You needed…guy time. But I…I _saw _something. The men…they were…I don't know _how_, but they were connected to the woman who shot you."

"Yeah, we know. They were transporting an experimental…"

"No! That's not it." She interrupted. "I mean, yes…they _did_ have the weapon. But I think it's bigger. The weapons are just…something to help…get them into something. They want…acceptance? Does that make sense?"

"I guess so." He shrugged, giving her a funny look.

"But…something bigger too. I don't know what."

"You think maybe another gang war or something?" She shook her head.

"No, it's…kinda like that. Like one person is controlling everybody…not like Joker was controlling. But, with…money or power or something. And planning…._something_." She said the last with an exasperated sigh. He leaned back, mulling over her words. He considered sharing Nightwing's suspicions with her, but decided she was already keyed up enough.

"I get what you're saying… I think. You think we should talk to Batman about it? Is it that big?"

"I don't…I don't _know_!I have no proof! And…he knows some of it. He has suspicions…but he doesn't share." She had suspicions too…but her information was lacking, and she wasn't about to tell Tim about them. If he took her seriously he would try to go off and get himself in even more danger, and if he didn't….well, then he'd think she was crazy, and she couldn't bear for him to think _that_. So she kept her fears, most of them, to herself.

"Well, let's talk to him anyway. Try to get info from him. Maybe if we _both_ approach him, we can overpower him by sheer force of will." He winked, and she laughed. Overpower Batman? Ha! But at the same time, she hoped he _did_ share his insight with them, because she had a feeling time was running out.

To be continued…


	6. Chapter 6

Robin slammed his fist against the brick wall, frustrated. _Why_ wouldn't he tell them anything? It was as if he didn't trust them anymore…a fact which _may_ be warranted, seeing as how they had broken the "rules" by going after Joker alone…but still, he would have thought Batman would have been more forgiving. Who was he kidding? Batman? Forgiving? Ha!

"You think too loud." Batgirl complained, sitting on the ledge they were on, her feet dangling over the edge, kicking the wall absently. Robin choked out a laugh. He had to admit, he loved the way she had her own perceptions of the world.

"I do beg your pardon," he drawled with a comic bow and flourish. "I shall attempt to keep my thoughts to myself from now on. Of course, should one or two of them leak out of my brain without my notice, do say you'll let me know so I can catch them and stuff them back in?" She cocked her head as if trying to decide if he was joking or not, then shook her head.

"You're silly." She patted the ledge next to her and he obediently sat down. "He's not punishing us, you know."

"Humph." She lightly punched him in the arm at his non-answer.

"He's _not_! He's worried about something."

"So he's 'protecting us from ourselves' or some other such nonsense?" He looked out over the city, feeling a bit of depression sinking in. He was _Robin_, for crying out loud. Trained by the best, worked with the best…one _of_ the best, or so he'd thought. He didn't need babysitting!

"Maybe he has a reason."

"Yeah? Well, he should trust us enough to _tell_ us the reason, instead of just telling us to 'let it go'. I mean…" he stopped as he realized his audience was no longer paying attention. "What?" She pointed.

"I saw something." Rolling his eyes behind his mask he leaned over to see…not that there was anything _to_ see…it was, of course, an incredibly dark alley to which she pointed.

"Care to elaborate?" She remained motionless for a second, tense. Then slumped back, resuming her aimless kicking motions.

"I guess it was nuthin'." That was odd. Batgirl wasn't known for imagining things. He studied her, trying to determine whether or not _she_ was trying to "protect him from himself" or something as he suspected Batman of doing. Then he looked back down to the alley. There was no movement. Maybe she was right…it had just been a cat or something. He shouldn't be leaping to conclusions…or jumping at shadows. That was the crooks' job…to freak out when they saw any of the Bat-clan coming.

"What say you we get this party started?" She looked at him inquiringly, so he elaborated. "You know…actually go patrol instead of sitting here feeling sorry for ourselves because Batman won't give us all the answers? You know, you wanted to learn to be a detective, right?" She nodded. "Well, let's do it, then! We can figure out what's going on without _him_!" He stood and offered a hand to help her up. As she stood, a strong gust of wind off the side of the building caused them a moment of unsteadiness, and they instinctively clutched at each other to regain their balance. Their proximity set off a myriad of feelings in each of them, none of which either was willing to quite admit to at this early date.

"Um…"

"Ahem…" With a bit of nervous laughter they pushed away from each other, both busying themselves with the simple task of readying a grapple to use to head out on patrol. Robin wasn't sure how to break the nervous tension…their moment had put a strain on the easy closeness they'd had in recent weeks. Batgirl, astute as ever, managed to put him at ease, though, with her observation:

"This is dumb." It startled a laugh out of him, which caused _her_ to laugh, and pretty soon they were both _back_ on the floor of the ledge, leaning against each other, back-to-back, for support as they apparently found much more humor in the situation than was warranted. Then again, a release of nervous energy in the form of hysterical laughter was better than some of the _other _options.

Finally, calm once again, they managed to stand and fire off lines without further incident. And if any onlookers happened to notice any residual tension in either of the young vigilantes, they would have chalked it up to the normal stresses of a dangerous job.

* * *

Two short-lived muggings, one foiled break-in, and three _long_ hours later, Robin stood atop a cathedral looking out over the city. Batgirl waited not-so-patiently a few feet lower, doing a one-handed handstand on one of the cathedral spires. Robin couldn't explain his restlessness exactly…it just seemed like an awfully quiet night, and he had an excess of energy. Not that an observer could tell…he stood motionless, silhouetted against the night sky.

"Well?" Apparently Batgirl had better things to do with her time than wait for him to gather his thoughts.

"Hold on! I haven't even _called_ yet!" he grinned to himself. Batgirl didn't answer, but flipped herself over to stand on the tip of the spire on one foot this time. Robin shook his head, amazed that she could exhibit so little patience now, yet could silently stalk the scum of the city for hours without tiring. Robin shrugged, tapping the button that would connect him to Oracle.

"_Speak_, O lowly mortal!" Robin laughed.

"Nice to talk to you too, Oracle."

"One does what one must to stay sane." Her voice was warm, full of laughter. He wondered idly if Nightwing had been by recently.

"You have anything at all for us tonight?"

"That slow, huh?" Robin laughed.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Well, it isn't like you've been in the habit of calling me up lately." Though there was still humor in her tone, he could hear censure in it, too. He hung his head, though she couldn't see.

"Well…I…I mean…." Her laughter brought his stuttering to a halt.

"Don't strain yourself!" She paused, then said with a more serious mood, "I hear you've been…busy," Robin sighed. Was he going to forever be defending himself for getting shot?

"_Someone's_ been busy, that's for sure."

"You can't expect me _not_ to have found out! I am, after all, the 'all-seeing, all-knowing Oracle.' How would it look on my résumé if I missed one of my guys getting themselves in trouble?" He smiled wryly as she teased.

"Yeah, well…"

"Anyway, you're right. It's an awfully slow night. Not that you should be complaining!"

"No, no…of course not. Just…restless, I guess. We were…'  
"'_We_?' Oho! Is Batgirl with you? How…._interesting._" Robin groaned.

"You spend entirely too much time with Nightwing." She just laughed.

"Hey, I don't need him to tell me what's right beneath my nose!"

"Ri-ight." He was _not_ going to discuss this with Oracle…especially with Batgirl just a few feet away! He snuck a glance in her direction…she waggled her fingers at him and he reddened, wondering how she knew what they had been talking about…had he been _that_ obvious?

"Soooo?" He shook his head…she just didn't give up!

"So what?"

"Come on…spill!" He laughed, but remained silent, eliciting a mock-sigh from the other end of the line. "You're no fun."

"I know." He frowned out over the city again. It seemed there really _was _nothing to do tonight…nothing to burn off the excess energy coursing through his veins.

"Yeah, well…hold on." He heard some kind of alarm in the background. Sounded like they may get some action after all!

"What? What is it?"

"Oh my God…"

"Ba…Oracle? Oracle? What's going on?" There was no answer and by this point Batgirl had materialized next to him.

"What happened?"

"I don't know, she just….I think she's in trouble!" Batgirl nodded, already pulling out a line to fire off. Robin continued trying to get Oracle's attention…informing the non-responsive receiver that they were on their way. _That _finally got a response.

"What… _no!_ No. Robin, I want you and Batgirl to…hold on…" She broke off again, and Robin frowned. He recognized the click as Oracle switching channels. She must be calling in some sort of reinforcement, but he and Batgirl were being pushed aside again! He clenched his jaw. They were only a few blocks from the clock tower…if he ever wanted to be a full member of the team again, he was going to have to take action.

"I don't think…." Batgirl started to object….probably realizing he was about to charge in again against orders.

"Good." Realizing how that sounded, he quickly added, "_Don't_ think about it. It's not a thinking thing! If you don't want to come with, that's ok. But I'm going to go see what's going on." She nodded.

"Ok. Just….don't say I didn't warn you." He flashed her a confident grin that belied the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Deal." They both took off, hurrying towards Babs' home. Robin wasn't sure what they would find…possibly Babs in trouble…if not, she _would_ be in trouble for trying to wrap them in cotton batting. They made the trip in silence…luckily Robin's ire wasn't so great that he didn't pause to take precautions against a trap or ambush. The area seemed dark, calm, and quiet…possibly _too_ quiet, though Robin would _never _admit to such a clichéd thought.

"Quiet." He stifled a laugh as Batgirl seemed to speak his own thoughts out loud. She shook her head at him, disgruntled at his not sharing the joke with her. He just grinned, then sobered, turning back to the problem at hand. If Babs truly didn't want them there, they were going to have to sneak past all her security systems…and she had made a hobby out of constantly changing and improving them so as to give the Bat-family (well, _and_ other intruders) the hardest time possible sneaking up on her.

"Any ideas?" He whispered, still examining the area instead of looking at Batgirl. If he _had_ bothered to look, he would have realized earlier that she was no longer at his side. As it was, her lack of answer drew his attention to this fact quickly enough. He sat up from where he had crouched, looking around. There. Movement in the shadows just across the street from Babs' apartment. He sighed, hoping she knew what she was doing, and followed. No point hanging back if Batgirl was going to trigger an alarm anyway.

He had to admit, as they reached the interior of the clock tower, that he had underestimated her. She had seemed to know each trap before they came to it, managing to avoid all of those and the alarms. Had he asked, she would have told him that, having lived with Babs for months, that she understood the way her mind worked and where she would most likely try to improve security. But he didn't ask, and she didn't tell. They approached the room where Babs' operated as Oracle in silence. They could vaguely hear her voice, though they couldn't understand the words, and it sounded as if she was in full "directing" mode. Telling someone somewhere to do something…and do it _now_. It was the mode that got even the most powerful heroes on the planet to obey... but it was also the mode she fell into when she was feeling helpless…unable to do anything from her end, so she used her "agents" to fix the problem for her. And judging from her tone that was exactly how she was feeling at the present moment.

Robin relaxed a little…it was obvious that she wasn't in danger herself…but then tensed again as his ire at being shut out returned. Batgirl stopped, reaching out to grab his arm.

"Maybe we shouldn't." But he was too keyed up to stop now. He shook her restraining hand off, advancing with purpose towards Barbara's inner chamber. Batgirl hurried after him, not so intent on a confrontation with Babs as much as keeping Robin from doing something he'd regret. She'd seen a flash of anger in him that was unusual…he wasn't _thinking_, just feeling…somehow in the past few weeks or months…or minutes… he'd run out of patience. Not that she blamed him…they had been kept on pretty short leashes up till now.

Robin burst into Oracle's sanctum without warning, completely intent on giving Babs a piece of his mind. His feet carried him in, his mouth opening to start a rant, even as his brain took in a million different details that indicated he was in over his head. Babs was seated at her computer, headset attached, fingers flying over her keyboard. At Robin's sudden entrance, she whirled, startled. As she saw him her eyes widened and she immediately turned to type another command into the computer…a command which would wipe the giant screens of all the data currently contained on them. Locator maps, information windows, everything, disappeared…along with a large flashing box, one of Oracle's _special_ alerts, one meant to keep track of any dangers to her family, her agents. But her command was too late, as Robin had already viewed the information displayed on the enormous screens.

"What the…oh God!" He turned, moving at a speed that would have done Kid Flash proud, heading back out the way he'd come.

"Tim! Wait! Cass…_stop him!_" But Babs' cry was too slow as well, and he disappeared before Batgirl could react. With only a short glance at Babs, Batgirl ran after him. She didn't know what had upset him…she still couldn't read fast enough to recognize what had been on the monitors before Babs had shut them down…but _something_ had happened…and she wasn't going to let him face it alone.

* * *

To be continued…


	7. Chapter 7

Robin wasn't trying to shake pursuit…a fact for which Batgirl was quite grateful. Had he been _trying,_ she would never have been able to keep up…especially as she wasn't entirely sure of his destination. As she caught sight of a flash of color, she altered course again. It wasn't until he landed on the roof of a familiar apartment building, surrounded by flashing lights, that she realized the import of whatever he had read. She caught sight of him preparing to descend, and she put on a burst of speed. She impacted with his back in an uncontrolled descent, and tackled him to the ground. He fought her blindly, not even cognizant of who had attacked him.

"Stop!" She tried to catch his hands, but he landed a solid blow to her sternum, robbing her of breath. Gasping, she switched tactics, grabbing his head and giving it a solid _thump_ on the roof beneath him. It didn't knock him out, but it fazed him enough that he stopped struggling long enough to realize who exactly was on top of him.

"Let me up!" His voice was insistent, with an edgy, almost panicky quality to it. He shoved at her again, more gently this time, but she still didn't move.

"No." She could tell he was about to freak out again, so she hurriedly continued, "You can't go down there! You're still Robin!" That gave him pause, but she could tell it didn't completely convince him. His mind was racing, unable to think logically. She sighed, and decided to take matters into her own hands. She tugged at his cape, forcing the sudden-release feature to open, and tossed it aside. Then she unceremoniously pulled off his mask, not taking the time to keep from injuring him a little as the spirit gum attaching it to his face resisted, hoping the extra pain would shock him into awareness. Apparently it did, as he blinked up at her, a bit confused at first, but his expression clearing.

He pushed at her again, but she could tell he was under much better control this time, so she released him. He sat up, glancing towards the edge of the rooftop as if he would bolt, so she inched closer.

"There are _people_ down there." She said it as a warning reminder, but he stiffened, a desperate light coming back into his eyes.

"I know! I have to…I don't have _time_ for this!" His voice broke as he started to rise again. She grabbed his shoulder and forced him back to a sitting position. Taking his head in both hands she made him look at her.

"You…have…to…change!" she said each word slowly and distinctly, as if that would get her pint across better. He closed his eyes and a shudder ran through him, but he nodded…and this time she really believed he would act more sensibly.

"I…I have a set of civvies in the…the…" he waved vaguely at a ventilation shaft with a curved head. She glanced worriedly at him one more time, but he seemed in control so she rose and went to fetch them. He removed his outer tunic and shirt, though his hands were shaking so bad it took a few tries. By the time she returned with his clothes he was only wearing his tights. He pulled on the sweatshirt, dragged a pair of baggy jeans over his tights, and stuffed his feet into an old pair of tennis shoes. Batgirl collected his Robin gear without speaking and stuffed it into the hidey-hole where he'd left his civilian clothes before.

He didn't wait for her, but descended to street level. She wanted to follow…obviously whatever was going on was big, and he'd need a friend. A movement to the left caused her to whirl defensively, but the darkness rearranged itself into a familiar figure.

"Batman." He frowned at her, every movement screaming that she shouldn't be here. "What's going on?" He didn't answer.

"Where's Robin?" His question was short, curt, but she sensed he already knew the answer.

"Down." She indicated the street with her head. Though he had anticipated this answer, he tensed even more and actually started pacing! She hadn't seen him this agitated before, and it worried her even more than Tim's panic attack. "_What_ is going on!" Her voice was more insistent this time, and seemed to break through to his thoughts.

"You don't know?" She fought the urge to roll her eyes, knowing he would _know_ even through her mask. As it was she was hard-pressed not to let the sarcasm escape into her tone as she answered.

"If I knew, I wouldn't be _asking_." He nodded, but continued his silence, preoccupied. She was about to insist a _third_ time when he suddenly spoke.

"Oracle intercepted a 911 call." She blinked. A nine-one-one ca….oh. Duh.

"Here?" He nodded.

"She didn't want Robin to know about it…called me instead. I was across town…I was still on my way when she told me you two broke into the tower." There wasn't any censure there, not like she'd expected anyway. Just a bleak…empty…statement of fact.

"It's bad?" She barely trusted her voice, and it came out a whisper. He obviously didn't trust _his_ voice either, as he simply nodded. A chill ran down her spine and she looked back to the edge of the roof where Tim had descended. There was an urgent feeling in her chest, and she thought she understood now why Tim had been so unreasonable.

She pulled her mask and cape off, earning her a sideways glance from Batman. He obviously knew what she was doing, and he just nodded, silently. With all the cops and ambulances downstairs, none of the Bat-clan could approach…not yet. But she could. Tim had kept civilian clothes on his roof to make it easier to go home in the morning. She, on the other hand, carried a baggy shirt in one of her large utility belt compartments…it wasn't so conspicuous for a girl to be wearing tight pants, so she didn't bother covering those up. She pulled on the shirt and bunched up the cowl and cape in between a couple of air conditioners. Then, with a deep breath to steady her racing heart and a last glance at Batman, she hopped off the roof and made her way down to where she could enter without being conspicuous.

* * *

Tim's heart was racing…keeping time to the mantra running through his brain as he pounded down the fire-escape. He kept telling himself it was a mistake…that the police had gotten there in time…or that it was a simple robbery…no one could be hurt. Oracle's alert had only shown the intercepted call, with the Drake name posted across the flashing box. It hadn't provided any details as to the _reason _for the call. But something inside him insisted that it wasn't so simple.

His headlong rush was halted suddenly as he rounded the corner and noticed the police blocking off the entrance to the building. He went cold. This was _bad_. He backpedaled to keep from being seen, melting back into the shadows. He considered his options. The police wouldn't let him in, he was pretty sure of that. Glancing back up, he noted a dark figure starting to descend the fire escape. Batgirl. Or…a strange still-functioning part of his mind observed… considering the lengths she had gone through to make _him_ remember to keep the identity a secret, she was probably in street clothes herself. With one last glance behind him at the guarding officers, he started back up the fire escape. He could sneak in the window…he did it often enough. He was halfway back up when Cass reached him.

"What…?" He kept climbing, not willing to pause even to answer. She shrugged and climbed with him. He found himself resenting her presence, even as it was comforting. She seemed to think he needed a babysitter…and she may be right. He didn't trust himself…just look how close he'd come to blowing the whole secret! But…but someone could be hurt…or…no. He wouldn't think that way.

He reached the window to his own room and clambered in. Without a second's thought, he raced through the apartment, heading instinctively towards the kitchen where he could hear voices. He didn't attempt to hide his presence, as he thudded down the stairs. A pair of cops glanced up, tensing automatically. Tim started towards the kitchen and they reached out to stop him.

"Hold it, son! Where do you think you're going!" Tim eluded the first officer's grasp, but came up short as the other moved to block the door.

"How did he get _in_, is my question. And what he's doing here." The man folded his arms across his chest in an attempt to intimidate him.

"I _live _here!" Tim almost informed him, as well, that he'd been intimidated by the _best _and that he in no way measured up, but at that moment, Cass made an entrance of her own, distracting them.

"Jeez! They're crawling out of the woodwork." The officer had some pretty obvious suspicions as to where they'd come from…and what they'd been doing in the recent moments that had kept them out of sight for so long. Cass glared at him as Tim ducked around the other officer.

"We came up the fire escape." She informed him as she followed Tim. It was an explanation, but also a warning…an alert to the police that their security wasn't as tight as they'd assumed. Both men let out an exclamation intending to stop them from entering, but they posed no threat to two teenaged vigilantes.

Tim entered the kitchen in full-fledged attack mode…ready to take on any comers. A few police officers looked up at his sudden entrance, and the outburst from their peers. One stood, intent on intercepting Tim, but he was too slow. Tim came to a halt just inside the door…feeling as if his heart had stopped as well.

"No….God, _no_…." he felt his knees give way, but inexplicably didn't fall to the floor. He was vaguely conscious of Cass supporting him, but all he could see was… blood…so much….it was…oh, God….his vision seemed to be clouding, and he felt his stomach heave. Cass lowered him so he was on his hands and knees. He was dimly aware that two of the officers were next to him as well, trying to get him out of the kitchen, away from the scene. He resisted at first, fighting tooth and nail and managing to break free from them…but he couldn't fight off Cassandra when she got her mind set on something and he numbly felt himself being dragged into the living room.

* * *

Cass held Tim's head as he retched again. She herself was shaking…though not for the same reasons as Tim. One police officer approached her, trying to ask her something important…she just shook her head, unable to form any type of understandable words. The woman left, only to return a minute later with another officer. This one crouched down, trying to get Tim to respond, then glanced up at her when that failed to produce a result.

"Miss?" He snapped his fingers close to her face, eliciting a glare…which apparently satisfied him that she was paying attention now. "Miss, I need to ask you some questions." She stiffened, not sure she was capable of navigating tricky police questions. He ignored this response, instead continuing his questioning. "Did you know the victim?" She nodded, glancing at Tim, who still looked decidedly green, but also seemed unaware of his surroundings. The man caught her glance, and followed it to Tim, then looked back at her questioningly.

"He…he was…his…dad." The officer's expression softened, and he nodded. He wrote something down on the pad of paper in his hand.

"And where were you earlier this evening?" For a moment she panicked…she couldn't tell him the truth! But she forced herself to relax, knowing only too well how body language could give everything away. Instead she patted Tim's shoulder absentmindedly and answered with a straight face.

"We were at my apartment. We…weren't supposed to be there…which is why we were sneaking back in." That sounded plausible enough, didn't it? She wished that Batman were here. He'd know what to do…about everything.

"Um-_hmmm_." He didn't believe her. Not entirely. Before she could respond there was a commotion at the door. She leapt to her feet as a sense of incredible relief flooded through her. A strange urge to latch onto the man who stood there was curbed only by the fact that, robbed of her support, Tim had slumped to the floor.

"What's going one here?" The officer who'd been interrogating her approached the newcomer…who simply looked disdainfully at him and then ignored him as he hastened to Tim's side. Cass still couldn't manage to get any words out…her brain was finally catching up to the import of his appearance here. "You! What do you think you're…" The officer's demand was cut short as He helped Tim back onto the couch, murmured something too low for her to hear, and then leveled _the glare_ at the officer. It was almost as effective as it would have been behind the mask.

"Bruce Wayne." He said shortly, by way of introduction. "Mrs. Drake called me…I'm a friend of the family. She wasn't sure where Timothy was and wanted me to find out if he'd come home. She couldn't be here herself, as she seems to have been kept over-long at the station. I'm certain that that oversight has been corrected…I sent my lawyer down there just a while ago." In fact, he had sent his lawyer and Alfred…he had a feeling Dana would need emotional support even more than the legal support. He raised one eyebrow imperiously, giving off the impression that everything about this was beneath him. It seemed to convince the officer…but it didn't pass with Cassandra. She could tell he was just as keyed up as she felt inside.

"Of course, Mr. Wayne. We just wanted to make sure everything was…."

"Oh, sure. I understand." He waved away the man's protestation. "I'm just going to make sure Tim and…" he raised an eyebrow inquiringly at her and Cass realized with a start that she was supposed to be playing a part!

"Cassandra." She barely forced the answer out through clenched teeth, but it seemed to satisfy him as he continued.

"Yes. Tim and his friend Callista…" Cass frowned, muttering her name again under her breath, but recognizing the "Bruce Wayne: Fop" act. "…are taken care of. I've sent instructions for Mrs. Drake to come stay at the Manor, Tim will stay too, of course, and I'll make sure that his friend here gets home as well." His tone brooked no argument and he led the two of them out of the apartment without any resistence…although Tim kind of had to be half-dragged out. Cass snuck a glance at Bruce, but he simply ushered them out as swiftly as possible without attracting too much attention.

Cass was itching to speak…bursting with a million questions and concerns. But it was quickly apparent that Bruce wasn't willing to talk yet, so she held her peace…choosing, instead, to try to get Tim to come out of his stupor. Unfortunately she succeeded, only to have to wrestle him back down to the seat and practically tie him down to keep him from leaping out of the car. She couldn't tell exactly what he was thinking…which was disconcerting, to say the least…but what was worse was knowing that _he_ wasn't sure of his feelings either! There was an explosion inside him waiting to erupt at the least provocation…but whether revenge, escape, or something else was the driving force, not even Tim knew. Cass feared that if they didn't keep a close eye on him, he may unwittingly…or perhaps purposefully….place himself in harm's way.

They reached the Manor without any serious incident. Alfred hastened to the car, a concerned look on his face. Bruce climber out, but Cass held back, letting the two men speak in private. Of course, she also held _Tim_ back…not that he was too intent on getting out. It seemed that he was drained of all energy…a cycle she wasn't sure she would ever quite understand. The door on his side of the car opened, and Alfred's head appeared.

"Tim, lad, come." He reached in to help Tim climb out. Tim clung to him like a lifeline, and Cass watched the two of them make their way to the house. She shivered, hugging her arms around her body. A warm hand came down on her shoulder and she started. She glanced back, relaxing as she realized it was Bruce.

"How are you holding up?" She shrugged. Why was he asking _her_? She had _killed_ someone…once…and the mere sight of a dead body…no matter how gruesome…couldn't hope to measure up to that experience. She felt a queasy sensation in her stomach and felt her knees start to give way. Bruce's strong grip held her up, but she started shaking. What was _wrong _with her! A painful sensation built behind her eyes and her vision became blurry. A disconnected part of her noted that tears were running down her face, but she couldn't quite understand _why_.

"I…I don't…" Bruce pushed her down a bit, and she realized he'd led her over to a decorative bench. There was understanding in his face, but no answers. She shook her head. "I…I've…I shouldn't be…" He nodded his understanding.

"You've seen terrible things in your life, Cassandra. But it's much different when it happens to someone you know…or care about." She nodded, but wasn't entirely convinced. She hadn't had this reaction upon Stephanie's death…and she didn't even _know_ Tim's dad…they'd never met. But seeing him…lying there in….well, anyways it hurt more than she could describe to watch Tim's reaction. It was more than just witnessing death…it was the ripping apart of lives…even those who continued to live. And what was worse…she knew it was all her fault.

* * *

To Be Continued… 


	8. Chapter 8

Tim's reunion with Dana was emotional, to say the least. Alfred watched silently, leaving only when he saw them clutching each other, tears streaming out of both of their eyes. He glanced out the front door, noting Bruce speaking with Cassandra on a bench on the lawn. He shook his head, a weight settling within his chest, and feeling older than he had since Miss Stephanie's death.

Meanwhile, Cass was getting herself back under control…as much as possible under the circumstances. While what Bruce had said about reacting differently when an acquaintance, a friend…a loved one was killed, she knew her reaction had been much deeper than that. Because somehow, she _knew _she was responsible for everything that had happened tonight. Oh, she knew Bruce wouldn't see it that way, though he would recognize her own feelings of guilt as he himself experienced them far too often and would not mention them. And most probably no one else would believe it was her fault either…except maybe Tim.

That was her greatest fear…that when she revealed the truth, she'd see betrayal, hurt…disgust…in his eyes. In all likelihood, it wouldn't come to that…she didn't know what Bruce had planned regarding the case, but it probably didn't include Tim very much…at least for the moment. But still…she had to share what she knew…it was only right. She took a few deep, gulping breaths, unsure of the reaction she'd receive.

"I…I have to…" She snuck a glance at Bruce, annoyed to find he wasn't paying attention to her. Well. So much for her confession. But she calmed down as she noted his tense stance, and followed his gaze towards the house. Alfred was silhouetted in the doorway, apparently waiting for… something. Bruce stood, and Cass followed suit, frustrated. But she could tell this wasn't the time to bring up her revelation.

"How is he?" Bruce's voice came softly, rough with emotion he refused to release. Alfred simply shook his head, and Bruce cursed under his breath. Cass wasn't sure what he'd expected…how was anyone _supposed_ to "be" after witnessing such a tragedy? She followed the men into the house, feeling lost…adrift.

A flash of light caught her eye as she started to close the door, and she turned, opening it again. A car was pulling into the long drive, somewhat recklessly, she noted with a frown. But as it came to a halt she recognized it and stepped back outside, closing the door behind her. One person emerged, then went around to the other side to help the passenger. Cass shivered, though she wasn't sure if it was from cold, emotion, or something else. She set her mind on the task of figuring out why they hadn't brought Babs' SUV as they struggled to free her chair from the back. They finally managed, and she started walking towards them, trembling, wondering how much they knew.

"Cassandra!" Dick was the first to notice her, and Babs peeked around him as she settled herself in her chair. She wheeled over to her, and some unspoken signal passed between them. Cass found herself suddenly overcome and she fell to her knees, clinging to Babs as tears poured out of her eyes. Babs murmured quiet comforts, reflexively smoothing back Cass' hair, but none of them really got through to her…she just cried.

When she finally regained some control, she realized that Dick had disappeared. Wiping her eyes with the back of her arm, she pulled back, feeling quite humiliated. But Babs wasn't looking at her with disgust, or even pity. Instead, moisture glinted on her own cheeks and Cass could recognize in her a similar heaviness of heart. Cass glanced back at the Manor, uncomfortable with all the emotions that were being yanked into the open. She had broken down with Babs before, when Batman had taken the mantle of Batgirl from her, but she still wasn't usually an emotional creature.

"Cass…do…do you know what happened?" Babs drew Cass' attention back to the present with her confusing question. Cass cocked her head to the side, trying to understand…to make her brain work again.

"Don't _you_?" Babs kind of shrugged.

"I only know what the police know…and what the 911 call reported." She shuddered a little, just enough for Cass to catch it, but probably not enough for anyone else to see.

"What…what did it say?" That was one piece of the puzzle she hadn't been able to place yet. If her suspicions were correct, Mr. Drake should _never_ have gotten to the phone…unless it was planned. Babs hesitated, then sighed. She knew Cass deserved an explanation, especially seeing as how the words on her own monitor had sent Robin into a raging, unthinking panic.

"Well…the report on the computer only targeted certain words…tagged them. Words I had entered as important. These include the names or homes of everyone in the Family, alerts on escapees from Arkham, and a few others. All that was shown on screen was a 911-call from Jack Drake's residence…the EMT units were being dispatched…and the police…and that was enough to set Tim off." Cass nodded absently. She had pretty much figured _that_ much out. After all, Batman had said there was a call…and even had the screen said more, even _Tim_ wouldn't have been able to get much more than that information from the short amount of time it had been displayed. But there was obviously more Babs wasn't sharing.

"_And_?" Babs sighed again.

"And…the call itself was pretty bad. Mrs. Drake apparently walked in and just found him laying there…" she shuddered, "and called 911. She was pretty hysterical…understandable under the circumstances…and I knew it would be bad for Tim to see that. I just wish I'd had something to redirect his attention before…" She trailed off and Cass nodded absently. Would it matter to Tim that there was nothing he could have done? She doubted it…it _might _ease his feelings of guilt, but only if he believed it, and even then it was doubtful.

"I don't…" she hesitated, not sure she could make it through the lie to Babs with her emotions strung as tightly as they were without giving something away, but she boldly continued. "I don't know anything else. The police were already there…no one could get in and search." Babs nodded, apparently believing her.

"Makes sense. I assume Bruce will go back later and investigate when the crowd is lessened." She glanced at the car and then at the house. "That's one reason I called Dick…he needed to know, he might be able to help…and he's like a brother to Tim anyway…" she seemed to realize she was rambling, and took a deep breath, slowing her speech. "Batman said to meet him here, Dick wanted me to wait for him…kinda thought it would be better not to be alone at times like this. It's true, too." Her focus came back to Cass and she frowned. "Cass, why don't you stay wi…"

"No." She pulled away, walking over to lean against a tree, wrapping her arms around herself. She didn't want to stay here, or with Babs, or _anywhere_. She was too keyed up…and she had too many suspicions. Better to stay by oneself than to risk anything. Behind her Babs sighed again and wheeled towards the house, most likely deciding she would have more success with anyone else. Cass watched her until she disappeared into the house, then straightened. She couldn't deal with this right now…she especially couldn't face _Tim_. She would get to the bottom of this…yes, that was it. Find him and…and…well, she wasn't sure what she'd do once she caught up with him. Didn't matter…she just needed to _do_ something. Anything. _Now_.

* * *

The building was dark and rather intimidating…that is, it was to _most _people. But very little had the ability to intimidate Batgirl…especially not a simple edifice made of stone and iron. Blackgate Penitentiary. Home to any number of the heinous villains who preyed on the innocents of Gotham…but she sought only one. Slipping through the darkness, every sense alert and ready, she made her way up to the prison's outer wall. Her cape she removed and placed amongst some rocks as, having swam across to the island's dark shore instead of trying sneak aboard a ferry and risk exposure, it was weighted down with water and would only slow her progress.

Entering the facility proved no difficulty for her, as she moved swiftly and silently towards her destination. The sound of approaching footsteps sent her scuttling into a darkened passage, but the guard passed by without so much as glancing her way. Using every skill she'd ever been taught, she lithely avoided each and every security camera, monitor, or other device in her path. She didn't hesitate, never faltered…until she stood outside her destination. She felt a strange flutter in her stomach, and whether it was from nerves or rage, she wasn't quite sure. Footsteps approached…the guard, again. She disappeared as he passed, then slipped behind him, needing to retrieve the key that would unlock the cell door. It wasn't difficult to obtain. This time she didn't hesitate. She turned the key in the lock, then slid inside letting the door close behind her. She stood for a moment, then pulled off her cowl, staring defiantly at the man seated on the small cot.

The figure in the cell glanced up at her entry, a light coming into his eyes for a moment, but he covered his reaction before a normal person could notice it. Of course, as she was constantly being reminded, batgirl was _not_ normal. She had caught the look and it fanned the flame of her anger into rage. Without warning she launched herself at him, slamming him into the wall, her hands wrapped around his throat. He made no struggle, simply let her know through his stance that he didn't believe she'd go through with it for a moment.

"I _warned _you!" Her voice came out in a rasp, harsh and unyielding. "I _told _you! Kill again and…and…" images flashed through her mind and she fell backwards, glancing at her hands, seeing them covered in blood…the blood she would never completely remove. David Cain pushed away from the wall, massaging his throat, and calmly watching her reaction. She closed her eyes, shaking her head as if she could shake away the memories.

She might have expected a disparaging remark, something along the lines of his knowing she wouldn't have it in her to go through with it…but to her surprise he remained silent. She pried her eyes open, glancing at her hands for a second, relieved to find the blood had been just a figment of her imagination. Then she glared at him.

"Why?" She demanded. She didn't really expect an answer…on the other hand, Babs had once thought he'd give her information just by asking, and he _had_ placed himself in prison on her insistence after framing Bruce for murder…an elaborate test of her new mentor. A sickening twist in her stomach caused her to take a deep breath, and her eyes opened in recognition. She'd already known it was her fault…no matter what anyone would tell her, Cain was her father, and his actions all reflected on and related to her, therefore it was her fault…but she hadn't even _thought_…or maybe _let_ herself imagine…that this really was _completely_ her fault. Another test of some kind? Or…

"Why what?" His bland question brought her focus back to him…dangerous, to lose focus when caged with a deadly assassin. Her hands clenched, itching to carry through on her promise made long ago. But she must restrain herself…if only to find out the answers before she completed her earlier actions.

"_Don't_! I know…I…you _killed_ him!"

"Exactly who is it I'm supposed to have killed while locked up in this fine institution?" She growled in frustration, not bothering with words. They both knew the only thing keeping him within Blackgate's walls was his promise to her…he'd already proven before that he could come and go at will. She glared at him and he shrugged, unconcerned. He didn't believe she'd carry through her threat? A grim smile spread over her face. That would be his last mistake…he'd trained her not to back down…and Batman had encouraged that philosophy. Even as he noted her smile and tensing stance, the smug smile melting from his face, she moved.

* * *

To be continued… 


	9. Chapter 9

Tim first became aware of his surroundings when he heard the front door slam. For the past…well, he wasn't sure how long, exactly…the sun seemed to be edging over the horizon, which meant it had been at least a few hours…he'd been in a hazy fog…unaware of anything. There had been a few short moments of clarity, accompanied by sharp, nearly debilitating pain, sending him quickly back into the safety of the fog.

He vaguely recalled crying with Dana, but she was no longer in the room. He wasn't sure when she'd left. He also had a dim memory of Dick, and Babs…maybe…but they were gone, too. Probably out hunting…with Bruce. He hadn't seen Bruce for quite some time. Alfred had been in and out a few times. But…he frowned trying to get a grasp on the elusive thought…someone was missing…some…Cassandra. He straightened. She had been there…at the…he felt the tightness returning to his chest, and pushed the thought away, needing to focus now.

She had been the voice of reason…keeping him from bursting in on the police and revealing the whole secret. She had pulled him back, away from…no…not going down that road. But since Bruce had come and rescued them…she had disappeared. Something about that seemed…wrong. He stood, pacing as he tried to sort out the various thoughts crashing about in his head. Maybe she was out working with Bruce and Dick…he felt a twinge of irritation that he hadn't been included, but, unsure how long this logical mood would last, decided to ignore it, knowing he hadn't been in any condition to help last night.

There was still something wrong with the picture…an image of Cass' face popped into his mind and he stopped in front of the window and focused on that image. What was it about the memory that disturbed him so much? She had been upset…well, logically, as the scene had been…_no!_ He grabbed his head, pressing his palms into his eyes, trying to erase the image that kept taunting him.

"Master Timothy?" Alfred entered, carrying a tray with a cup of tea, a sandwich, and an apple…thinking it had been too long since the young man had eaten. But Tim wasn't where he'd left him, on the couch, but instead standing near the window, his head buried in his hands. Alfred placed the tray down, and headed towards the young man. "Tim, lad." He placed his hand on Tim's shoulder and Tim looked up, a bleak look in his eyes…one Alfred recognized all too well. He closed his own eyes for a moment against the memories of other young men with similar looks in their eyes.

"I…I can't…" Tim broke off, looking away, as if embarrassed by his feelings. Alfred patted his shoulder comfortingly, wishing that his reassurances could be more than empty words. After all, how can you possibly tell someone, especially a child, no matter how mature he might be, who just lost his father that everything will be all right?

"I wish…"

"Who left?" Alfred blinked at Tim's sudden change in subject, but let it slide, recognizing that he wasn't ready to hear such encouragements just yet.

"I beg your pardon?" Tim flushed a little, but continued determinedly.

"Or came in. I heard the door." Ah. Trying to get his mind on other things. He nodded to himself, as he turned to retrieve the tray of food.

"I believe that was Miss Barbara. Mister Gordon heard about…well, what happened. He came to take her home, as she was somewhat stranded since Master Dick drove her here." Tim nodded absentmindedly, not really hearing a word Alfred said. His mind was still teasing him with traces of his earlier suspicions.

"Alfred?"

"Yes, lad?"

"Where…where's Cass?"

* * *

She sat on the hard cot, idly kicking her foot against the wall. It had always been a challenge taking on Cain…and not just because of the skills he possessed. There was still a part of her which recognized him as her father and had trouble closing in for the kill. On the other hand, the better part of her life, her formative years, had been spent doing just that…fighting him. She glanced at him now, where he lay motionless on the floor of the cell. She supposed she should be grateful to have defeated him at all…and that she hadn't crossed that line she had sworn never to cross again. She kicked the wall again…more viciously this time.

A moan rose from the figure on the floor and she tensed. He pushed himself to a sitting position and looked around. His eyes widened, apparently surprised to see her…either because he hadn't thought she'd stick around, he hadn't thought she'd leave him alive, or some other reason completely unknown to her. But a look of pride replaced the surprise and Cass felt her stomach clench with nausea and shame. She didn't _want_ to give him any reason to be proud of her! He was a killer! A heartless, evil, horrible, nasty, repulsive, unspeakable…well, you get the picture.

He examined his injuries, apparently unconcerned by the broken bones in his arm, leg, and ribs. Nor the swelling bruises and cuts on his face and every other uncovered part of his body. He looked at her again, his movements showing his injuries bothered him not a bit, but rather pleased him as they indicated a high level of skill on her part. She shook her head, angry and tired of the useless violence.

"Why?" She didn't bother explaining her question…it was the same one she'd been asking since she came in the door…the same one she'd asked as she pummeled him into a bloody pulp…and the one she would continue to ask until she had an answer.

"You continue to assume I have knowledge of what you're talking about." She wanted to throw something. Instead she just stared at him. He knew, more than anyone perhaps, how well she could read people…he was just toying with her. Perhaps he thought she was just fishing…not really aware of what had transpired. She squatted down so she could look him in the eye.

"I…_saw_ the body." He raised an eyebrow, not impressed. "Only a handful of people in the world know that…technique…" her stomach rebelled again…to call what had been done to Tim's father a "technique" was putting much to kind a face on it. It had been a torture method, one used to inflict the maximum pain, with a minimum of visual damage…unless you know what to look for. Similar to what he had done to Vesper Fairchild, the technique differed in that in _that_ case it had been intended to show the damage done…in this case, only someone familiar with the process would notice…the marks were practically invisible.

The police wouldn't even notice...it had been done as a message…to her, or Batman…she didn't know to whom it was intended, but it didn't matter. All the police would see was a possible foiled break-in, or domestic dispute, or something…_anything_…that would end with Mr. Drake the victim of a crime of passion…a fast death, as having half of one's head blown away tended to be. No one would know how he'd suffered before that.

"So. You're turning into a real detective, aren't you?" He was mocking her, and she ground her teeth together. He shrugged. No matter her threat, he knew she wouldn't be able to bring herself to kill again…not even him.

"What's the point? Why did you…what's in it for _you_!" She grabbed the front of his jumper, slamming him back against the wall again. The look in his eyes hardened.

"You want answers? Fine. Someone put a hit out on your little boyfriend…" apparently her face betrayed her, because his lip curled as he continued, "yes, I know all about that. You don't think I'd stay in here without keeping my lines of communication open, do you? The reports of Batgirl and Robin working together have increased over the past few months until your names are always linked." There was a deeper bitterness in his eyes than she had previously seen, and she shivered.

"But…"

"The call was for information on Robin's identity, along with the death of everyone related or important to the boy. Only Robin was to be left alive…apparently your friend's made somebody powerful very, _very_ angry." He relished telling her this, she saw, and she kept her face in a still mask, not wanting to give anything away.

"You…"

"Don't worry," he sneered, "I'm not giving away any of your precious 'secret identities'," He laughed unpleasantly, "no one even knows I'm fulfilling their contract for them."

"But…then…_why?_" His eyes were hard and he pushed her away from him, struggling to his feet.

"Did you really think I was going to stay in here forever? It suited my purposes to let Batman use you, train you for awhile, but that doesn't mean I'll sit back and watch all my hard work go to nothing. I didn't spend all those years training you…molding you…to watch you throw it away. You've stagnated. This…_opportunity_…simply gives me the chance to get back in the game. When the time is right, I may share the information I have with those seeking it…once I find out who they are. If I were to let some amateur handle it, they might decide _you_ are important to Robin and try to take you out as well." Not one ounce of concern touched his features.

"Not that they'd succeed," he continued nonchalantly, "but I didn't work for years to make you what you are to see you throw it all away on a… erp!" She caught him across the throat, cutting off his words and then swinging around to deliver a well-placed kick to his temple, rendering him unconscious again. He would have a killer headache when he woke up. She smiled grimly to herself, then frowned. It didn't change the fact that he had an airtight alibi, at least according to the police, and she had no way to ensure he wouldn't leave the island again. Tears threatened again, and she viciously brought them under control. They would all loathe her, but it was time to bring in back-up…and tell everyone the truth.

* * *

"I don't _believe _this!" Batman's eyes didn't so much as flicker in Nightwing's direction. They had been out until nearly dawn hunting down clues into the murder, without much luck. The body had been taken to the morgue where two workers remained all night, blocking any attempt at studying the body, and the crime scene had been swarming with cops. They had managed to get _some_ work done, but considering the situation, it wasn't nearly enough. Especially, as Nightwing had just discovered, the press had already decided that it was likely that _Mrs_. Drake was the most logical culprit.

"How _dense_ can you get? I mean, _really_! It's not enough that…" Batman tuned his tirade out. It didn't matter what the press thought, although the way they had already tried, convicted, and practically executed Mrs. Drake _was _despicable…but then he'd never had much use for the media. Apparently the fact that Dana was quite a few years younger than Jack hadn't escaped notice, nor had the fact that his financial affairs were finally beginning to turn around again. Even though the police kept insisting that they were still looking into the murder, as a break in attempt or any other alternative, the thought of a gold-digging wife wasn't far from _anyone's_ mind. Batman rubbed a gloved hand over weary eyes. _He_ didn't think Dana had done it, but without any evidence, he didn't have any _other_ leads to use to clear her name.

At least the police had backed off for the moment. His lawyers had done the job of getting her out of the station well enough, but they needed more information to keep her out. Batman turned from the monitor, thinking that perhaps a break could bring an answer, as getting the mind off a problem was wont to do, only to find Nightwing glaring at him. He frowned, unsure what the younger man's problem was _now_.

"Were you listening at _all_?"

"No." He moved towards the costume vault, knowing Bruce Wayne was expected at a board meeting today. Nightwing dogged his heels with an exasperated sigh.

"What are you planning? Let me in on this, Bruce." His tone was bordering on the whiny, but he was tired of Bruce always shutting everyone out of important happenings.

"I'm not planning anything."

"_What_!" That had caught him sufficiently off guard to stop him in his tracks for a second, but he quickly recovered and chased after his recalcitrant mentor. "What do you _mean_ you're not planning anything? You…" Batman sighed and pulled off his cowl and cape, continuing to prepare for the day ahead even as he cut off Nightwing's rather panicky-sounding rant.

"Without a good look at the body and crime scene we don't have enough evidence to even begin formulating hypotheses, let alone carrying out complex plans to…"

"Don't give me that! I _know_ you know more than you're letting on. Tim _told_ me he thought you were keeping something from him, Cassandra's disappeared, and you're acting like it's just another crime…and it's _not_!" He maneuvered his way around to block the older man's path. "Don't you remember what it was _like_? Right now Tim's in shock, but you _know_ it won't take him long to hit that stage where you just _have_ to get revenge, justice, whatever you want to call it, and you're not always thinking straight and it doesn't matter who gets in the way!" Bruce glared down at him throughout his tirade, then brushed past him towards the stairs.

"Are you done?" When Nightwing didn't answer, he glanced over his shoulder to find the younger man glaring at him in disbelief. "I _have_ had suspicions about Robin in the last few weeks…he's been the subject of vicious attacks, more, even, than _he's_ aware of. But this is the first indication that the incidents could go deeper…that his identity is compromised, or that this is a larger game than we thought. It _is _possible that Jack Drake's death was an accident, or at least unrelated to Tim's activities as Robin. But until we discover the truth, I want as few people involved in this investigation as possible." He paused, considering how best to phrase his command so as not to offend his old partner.

"I'd appreciate it if you could keep an eye on Tim…and Cassandra if she turns back up. I think she knows something…but she hasn't spoken up yet, so I'm not counting on her. I'm not shutting you out, Dick," he countered gruffly as the young man started to object, "I really need your help on this. Like you said, Tim's going to reach a point when he can't hold back any longer. You're younger and closer to him…he may listen to you." He glanced at Nightwing in question. Nightwing hesitated, but nodded grudgingly. He continued matter-of-factly…

"If not, I'm counting on you to keep him from doing something he'll regret."

* * *

To be continued… 


	10. Chapter 10

Tim sat dejectedly on his bed. Well, the bed in the room Alfred had told him was his for the time being. Apparently Dana had another room down the hall. Their whole apartment was a crime scene now and there was sure to be a million people crawling all over it. Tim sat up as a thought struck him…his secret compartment! What if…? No. He slumped back again. His dad had only found it because he knew the room had been larger when they moved in. Besides, Tim had cleared most of the incriminating items out when he had quit being Robin, especially the stupid journal which had given Bruce's identity away. They may find the suit, but no one else would be implicated.

He sighed and rolled over on his stomach, burying his face in his arm. This just _couldn't_ be happening. He felt so…so…_helpless_. It sent a bitter twist through his stomach and he squeezed his eyes shut to ward off the feeling. He hadn't realized how terrifying it was…being helpless. He hadn't been that way since he was thirteen. Not in the worst situations had he felt so lost, adrift.

He propped his chin up on his hand and frowned. Alfred hadn't known where Cassandra had disappeared to…which just served to strengthen his suspicions that she knew something, or…or…well, _something_. He felt a little bit sick to his stomach as he recalled the way he'd fallen apart…especially up on the roof. But…it was his _dad_! He felt his chest constrict and shook the thought away. No time for that now. Focus on solving the case…that's it. He let his head drop again. Yeah…like this was just any old case with a nameless victim. Why? Whywhywhywhywhy? The word echoed in his head at superspeed.

"Tim?" He glanced up as Dana poked her head around the door. He grimaced, though he didn't mean to, and dropped his head back down. He didn't want to see her…he didn't want to see _anybody_. Except Cass…because he just _knew_ she knew something. He knew Batman would have already started working and Nightwing apparently would be helping…or at least he'd _try_. And, no doubt, they'd both try to _protect_ him…guard him…save him from himself or some other such nonsense. He looked up again, scowling. Dana was still standing in the doorway, kind of fidgeting. He smoothed out his expression, sighing a bit, then gave her a wan smile. He wouldn't blame her if she left again, he supposed he'd been a bit…preoccupied.

"Hey." She looked as if she wasn't sure whether to be relieved or upset that he was talking to her. He shrugged and sat up. She still hadn't said anything, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Um…can I, uh, do something for you?"

"No. Actually, I was going to…I just…" Her face crumpled, though she quickly regained control…he got the impression she was trying to put on a good face for _his_ sake…and he motioned for her to sit in one of the plush chairs near the window and he moved to the other.

"It…um…it's kindova shock, huh?" Well, _that_ was articulate…and it expressed his feelings on the matter _so_ well. Tim shook his head, wondering where the little sarcastic voice had come from. Was this how Two-Face had started? There _was_ Joker's theory about Really Bad Days to consider. Tim fought the urge to giggle and decided he must be under too much stress. _That_ was such an understatement that he actually _did_ let out a tiny laugh, then glanced at Dana in horror.

"No…it's ok. I've…I think I've been feeling the same way all day." She gave a half-hearted little smile, and he slumped back into his chair, feeling drained again of all energy.

"I…I don't know what to do." It came out as a whisper but managed to convey all the helplessness and despair he was fighting deep inside. Dana looked a little surprised, then frowned at him.

"I don't think _anyone_ knows what to do in a situation like this…but especially…I mean…you're just a kid, Tim. You're not _supposed _to _do_ anything!" He just looked at her, with a kind of calm, patronizing air that sent chills down her spine. She'd send Robin in action, but never in this…_intense_, focused…dangerous mode, and she recognized for the first time how serious his job was…and how he'd managed to earn his place as partner to the greatest crime-fighter in the world.

A door closed somewhere in the house, shaking each out of his or her own reflections. Tim glanced at the door, obviously wanting…no, _needing_…to be elsewhere, doing something, as he had said. Dana sighed. She was still trying to come to grips with losing her husband…she didn't want to lose her son as well. But she knew holding him back would backfire, as it had when Jack had tried it, and she would lose him just as sure as if he had been killed fighting the crime and corruption that permeated the city.

"Listen, I…I'm sorry. I think I keep forgetting how much you've taken upon yourself…how much of an adult you've become. If there's something you _can_ do, then I won't try to stop you. I know how frustrating it is…I…" she broke off again, feeling tears welling up. Tim reached out and patted her arm somewhat awkwardly. She hesitated, then pulled him into a tight hug. He resisted at first, but only for a moment, returning her embrace with a tense fervor. He pulled away first, and she wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I…" She shook her head, cutting him off.

"Go on. Do what you need to do." She nodded at the door and he was out of his chair and almost out the door before she had finished her statement. He paused though, and turned back with a small smile.

"Thanks." Then he was gone.

* * *

"Will there be anything else, Master Bruce?"

"No, Alfred." There was a slight pause, then, "thank you." Alfred shook his head. It wasn't often that Bruce acknowledged all that he did for him and his "cause" each day, but he knew it was always implied. Unfortunately it usually seemed to be times of crisis that reminded him. Alfred watched him now, dressed in one of his "Bruce Wayne, CEO" suits, trying to affect that half-serious, half-carefree air that was his trademark, and failing miserably. Alfred knew that it was important, at least to Bruce, that he go about his daily activities as if nothing had changed…he thought it would help distance him from Batman in the sight of others.

Personally, Alfred thought it more likely to simply cause more pain for everyone involved. Besides, Bruce Wayne had known Jack Drake…they used to be neighbors after all… and word would have gotten out already that he had taken Dana and Tim into his house and under his protection…at least as far as legal matters were concerned. No one would think to link the case to Batman or Robin or any other nighttime activities. So he could very well just take the day off, be there for Timothy… after all, who better to share one's pain than someone who'd experienced the same? But his arguments had fallen on deaf ears, and he knew he was going to have to deal with the fallout on his own.

Master Richard wasn't doing much better. Alfred snuck a peek at where the younger man, having changed from his Nightwing uniform, sat at the computer, moodily typing in various commands, but not really concentrating on their outcomes. Alfred sighed, supposing they had had words again. He turned towards the costume vault, intending to straighten up when a commotion at the entrance from the Manor caught his attention. Cassandra, looking very much the worse for wear, burst through the secret door, nearly smacking Bruce in the process.

"Oops." She muttered under her breath. She took a deep breath and then the suit, tie, and posture sank in and she deflated. "You're _leaving_?"With a disgruntled frown Bruce stood back as if to let her pass.

"Yes. I have some important business…"  
"But _this_ is important!" Her outburst drew the attention of both Alfred and Dick, and she grimaced and heaved a sigh. "Sorry." She mumbled, more to prolong the coming confrontation than from any real contrition. Bruce studied her for a moment, glanced at Dick, then Alfred, and sighed.

"Look's like I'm outnumbered." She glanced up, but he was more resigned than angry, and she felt a bit of relief that at least she wouldn't be upbraided for this little upset. No, any unpleasantness would be saved for her upcoming confession. She harshly told her inner voice to shut up, but couldn't help a bit of a shiver. Barbara had taken her in, but Batman had given her a purpose…and a family. She wasn't ready to lose all that.  
"Alfred, call the office." Bruce's voice broke through her thoughts. "Tell them I won't be in today. I have some….personal business to attend to." Alfred nodded, not quite hiding his pleasure at Bruce's announcement.

"Very good, sir." He made his way towards the manor and Cass felt a momentary pang of loss…feeling that he may have been her only ally in the coming confrontation. She watched him until he disappeared, then turned back to find both Bruce and Dick staring at her intently. She flushed, noting that both men were well aware of her strange behavior and were already suspicious. _That_ wouldn't help her. She pushed the thought away, knowing she didn't deserve any leniency.

"Ummmm…." She glanced around, seeking a way to postpone some more, but the looks she received from Dick and especially Bruce made her abandon that quest very quickly.

"You had something you wanted to share with us?" She flicked a glance at Dick, unsure if she _really_ wanted more of an audience, but from Bruce's tone, she wasn't going to have a choice. She sighed and slumped her shoulders.

"Why don't we all sit down and you can just…" Dick broke off at a glare from Bruce, but he shrugged it off and held out a chair anyway. Cass threw him a grateful glance, and moved past Bruce to take the proffered seat. Bruce stood solid for a moment, as if sitting down would be some kind of surrender, but something seemed to make him reconsider, as he took his place in the large chair in front of the computer. Cass had a wild thought that he looked like some kind of evil ruler on his throne, but squashed it. That kind of thinking would _not_ help her here. She closed her eyes, bringing all her thoughts and words under control. She didn't want to stutter and lose her train of thought.

"Ok. Well…"  
"Now _this_ is interesting. Are we having a party? Or just plotting out the plan _without me_?" The angry voice echoed through the cave, coming from the stairs leading from the Manor. Cass felt her insides turn to ice, while some detached part of her noted that she wasn't the only one reacting with fear to Tim's arrival. Now _that_ was what was _really_ interesting. She caught a glance between Bruce and Dick in which they seemed to have an entire argument without a single word…one which it appeared Dick lost. He cleared his throat.

"Um, hey, Tim." Tim walked down the stairs and into the light, and Cass flinched at the barely concealed rage bubbling just beneath the surface. "We were just…"

"I _know_ what you 'were just'…. I'm not being left out on this one! You can't just…"

"Sit down, Tim." It was Batman's voice, and it effectively silenced the young man's outburst. He glared for a minute, sparing an especially long, hard look at Cassandra, but he sat without further comment. "We weren't leaving you out." Tim stiffened, but remained silent, so Bruce continued. "You were pretty…shaken up last night. You weren't in any condition to do anything." Tim hung his head a bit, acknowledging the fact of this statement.

"I know…but…"  
"But nothing. If you are truly able to function up to normal standards now, then you are more than welcome to assist." He glanced at Dick, who shrugged. "I think it's fair to say that we all know, to some extent, what you're feeling, and we won't keep you from helping to extract…justice. But not vengeance, Tim." He leveled a stern, forbidding glare at the young man. "If I feel you're getting too… involved, too emotional, I _will_ pull you off the case, and I will _not_ hesitate to use whatever methods necessary to ensure you do not cross the line." Tim stiffened, an angry retort forming, but a discreet shake of the head from Dick caught his eye and he remained silent. Bruce _did_ have a point…they had all lost parents to vicious criminals…except Cass… and no matter how much it hurt, they hadn't crossed the line. Tim frowned…well, he didn't _think_ they had. No one had ever brought the subject up.

"Fine." His agreement was short, terse, but Bruce apparently took him at his word, as he nodded briefly and turned back to where Cass sat, unnaturally pale. A raised eyebrow from Bruce caused her to take a rather shaky breath.

"Well, I…I know who did it." She kept her eyes turned deliberately away from Tim, but she could hear his swift intake of breath in surprise at her statement. Dick also looked stunned, but Bruce simply nodded at her to continue. "It was…" she paused, taking a deep breath as she prepared herself for their reactions. "It was Cain."

She almost closed her eyes, fearing what she may see in their faces, but she controlled herself. To her surprise, they didn't seem overly hostile towards _her_…instead each was silently pondering her announcement. Bruce caught her gaze and raised a cynical eyebrow and she ducked her head at the silent challenge. He knew what she'd been thinking, that they'd blame her, and she could tell he wasn't too happy with her for the conclusions she'd drawn.

"But…but _why_?" All eyes turned towards Tim, but he was focusing on Cassandra. She dropped her gaze, fidgeting nervously.

"One _might_ ask how, but I'm assuming we all know he's capable of breaking out of Blackgate… and back in, I suppose?" Cass nodded, grateful for Dick's intervening question. "A rather air-tight alibi," he growled.

"Cassandra?" Bruce didn't have to clarify…he wanted the details…all of them. She sighed.  
"I…I'm not completely sure _why_…but he did say someone is paying a lot for…um…information about, and anything that may bring harm to, Robin." Tim paled, and Cass felt sick to her stomach…he hadn't even _thought _it could be his fault yet. Maybe he'd felt guilty about not being there…but now… to be the direct cause…she knew how he felt. "He wouldn't say who…I…I don't think he even knows."

"That would explain the shooting."

"And that gang we ran into." Tim nodded numbly, not entirely conscious of the continuing conversation. Bruce shot him a look, but decided against trying to send him away. He turned back to Cass.

"If he's being paid, then he knows who's behind it. Cain's too smart to work uninformed." Cass shook her head miserably.

"He isn't getting paid. He…did it because of me."

* * *

To be continued… 


	11. Chapter 11

Cassandra sat alone in a far corner of the cave, relishing the darkness. No one would find her here. Not that no one _could_…but they wouldn't bother looking that hard. Not for awhile at least. She shivered and choked back her tears. No more crying, she told herself firmly. She had cried when Batman had fired her from being Batgirl…but then she had disobeyed and been Batgirl anyway. She had to do that now…take action instead of sitting in a corner feeling sorry for herself. A tiny voice, one that was growing louder by the minute, chastised her, shrieking that she should have killed Cain when she had the chance! So lost in her thoughts was she, that she didn't even notice the soft footsteps approaching until a plate of cookies appeared at her side. She stared at them dumbly for a second, then looked up at the person holding the plate.

"I thought I might find you here. It _is_ a nice spot to sit and reflect…I'm sure I've lost count of the number of times Master Dick, Master Jason…even Master Bruce, have tried to hide away down here." Cass blinked at him, confused. Alfred handed her the plate and then stood back, the light from his flashlight disturbing the shadows.

Cass put the plate down on the rock next to her, and folded her arms around her knees. Alfred sighed. He moved forward, stooping a bit, and sat down next to her on another outcropping. Cass had to blink again to confirm what her eyes were telling her.

"What are you doing?" He raised an eyebrow, finally settled into position.

"Sitting down." As if it were the most normal thing in the world. "I have a feeling we may need to have a bit of a chat, and I'm not as young as I once was. _I_ would prefer to be seated at the table in the kitchen, much more comfortable and fresh tea, but since you've chosen this spot, I suppose it will have to do." Cass glared at him.

"I don't want to talk."

"Indeed." She eyed him suspiciously. Alfred was funny sometimes…she couldn't read him as she could other people. She wasn't sure if that was a result of a lifetime of being a butler, fading into the woodwork, and all that, or perhaps it stemmed from his training in England. Either way, she could only know what he was thinking when he _wanted _her to know…such as when voicing his latest disapproval of Batman's actions, or silently supporting one of his "charges"…the rest of the time he was unreadable…and it was irritating. She grunted. He simply smiled and waited. Sure enough, his patience was rewarded.

"You…heard?" She wouldn't look at him, but he nodded as he answered.

"Yes, I heard. Your guilt is misplaced, though." She looked up at that, surprise, curiosity, and…hope reflected in her eyes. She looked away again, her voice laden with disbelief.

"No. He even told me so…he did it because of me." Alfred nodded understandingly, but answered a bit harshly.

"And that makes you responsible, I suppose?" She started to answer but he held up a restraining hand. "No. I've heard just about every argument for self-torment known to man in my time, most of which are unfounded and irrelevant, and none of which apply to you. Especially in this case. Now, you may feel free to spend countless hours using up your energy berating and feeling sorry for yourself. Or you might put some of that energy to good use, figuring out how to bring your father" she winced "to justice and prevent him from acting again. I, for one," he added more gently, "would choose the second option." That said, he rose and left her alone.

She watched him disappear around a corner, and considered what he'd said. He was right…she'd already decided that self-pity was useless…but finding a way to stop Cain without crossing that ever-present line…well, that was another story entirely. Now, if she could just figure out…she shook her head. No, she wasn't going to figure _anything_ out sitting alone in the dark. She caught a glance of the plate of cookies Alfred had left. Well. Now was as good a time as any, she supposed. Maybe if she appeared bearing gifts her welcome would be a little warmer. She took a deep breath, picked up the plate, and hurried after Alfred, hoping he'd know exactly the right thing to say.

* * *

Tim stared hard at the practice dummy, willing it to do _something_ to annoy him. He'd changed into workout clothes, hoping to burn off some of the excess energy threatening to tear him to pieces, but once he'd reached the gym, he'd been unable to motivate himself to do anything. So he'd given the dummy a few half-hearted kicks, but that didn't seem to help anything and now he was reduced to wishing a cloth and stuffing-filled target would somehow spring to life and attack him, just so he had a reason to tear it to bits. The dummy didn't move. Tim glared at it, and gave it one last petulant kick.

"Stupid doll." He turned, then nearly jumped out of his skin. "Jeez, Cass. Warn a guy, next time, willya?" She frowned and glanced down at her hands, which, he saw, were full of a plate with Alfred's famous cookies piled high upon it. He turned back to the dummy, finally riled enough to hit it with a strong attack. His back being turned, he didn't see Cassandra pale and almost turn to leave. Instead all he saw was red. Cass sighed.

"I need to talk to you." He ignored her and gave the dummy another good _thwack, _and she could tell he wasn't seeing the dummy when he struck out so hard, but someone else entirely. She tried not to take it too personally…he was hurting, she could see that, and his anger wasn't _necessarily_ directed at her. Of course, since she'd felt pretty much the same way about herself for the past day, she couldn't really blame him if it _was _directed at her.

She frowned. Whether or not he was justified in his anger towards her was irrelevant at the moment. She was most likely the only one who could get anything out of, or have any chance of stopping, Cain. And promise or not, Batman wasn't about to let Tim become overly involved…he didn't seem to think Tim could handle the pressure and not cross that line. She _had_ crossed that line, long ago, and she believed Tim needed this closure…and _she_ would _make_ sure he didn't go too far…she shivered…even if it meant losing his friendship. Speaking of which…

"I need to talk to you, _now_." He viciously chopped at the dummy, finally severing the head from its body. He stood breathing heavily for a moment, unwilling to turn to face her. "Please, Tim?" With a heavy sigh, he slumped his shoulders and dropped his head. He turned to face her, but didn't quite meet her eyes.

"I don't really want to talk right now." At least he was talking to her. She took a few steps closer to him.

"That's what I told Alfred." That got him to actually look at her, a questioning frown on his face. He noticed that she actually looked almost as bad as he felt. His frown deepened. What was up with _that_? _He_ was the one who'd lost his father, who'd _failed_ his father. What did _she_ have to be miserable about? She was eyeing him warily and he paused in his mental tirade, vaguely recalling her claiming that it was _her_ fault that his father had died. Well, _that_ was silly! She'd even said it herself…his dad had fallen victim to someone out to get _Robin_.

"Tim?" He blinked, realizing he'd drifted off into his own dark musings.

"Um, what?" Cass sighed, and walked over to the bench, putting down the plate she'd carried. Tim hesitated, trying to go back over what Cass had told everyone earlier that day. He'd pretty much shut out the whole conversation after Cass had confessed about the hit that had been put out for him and anyone close to him. Wait. Hadn't she said…

"Listen, we have to work together, ok? Batman said you can help, but… I don't think he… _believes_ you'll make it. Not that he _wants_ you to fail, it's just…ohhh!" She growled the last word, frustrated and unsure how to make him understand that he could nurse his anger at her later, but if he wanted to be in on this case, he _had_ to trust her, at least for a while.

"You said…" She looked up expectantly. He was frowning at her as if he couldn't understand what she was doing there. She held her breath as he sorted out the questions running through his head. "You…you said _Cain_…David Cain? Did this?" She nodded, waiting for him to continue. He mulled over this for a moment. "Um. Did you…I mean…do you know why?" She blinked. She hadn't realized he had been _so_ out of it earlier. She'd known he was distracted, but…

"Yeah…" She drew the word out, trying to figure out how best to word it. "He said there was a…"

"I heard _that_ part." She flinched at the harshness in his tone. "But…" she held her breath, "there was more, wasn't there? I mean…" he broke off, looking lost.

"Yes. There was more," she answered softly. She looked away as she continued, "he…he told me that he did it because of me." Tim didn't react and she peeked at him. He was looking at her funny, but she couldn't tell what he was thinking…_that_ was disconcerting. "He said I was…sta…stag-mating?"

"Stagnating?" His voice was quiet, not angry…not yet.

"Yes." She frowned. Apparently he read her confusion, as he gave her the first little smile she'd seen all day.

"It means, um…stuck. Not moving forward, not improving." She nodded.

"Yes. That's what he meant."

"But what does that have to do with…"

"He…" she reddened, looking down at her hands. "He said he heard the Batgirl and Robin were…working together a lot…um… and he thought…" She stumbled to a halt, feeling stupider than she had in months.

"He killed my dad because he thought we were dating?" She glanced up, startled at the laughter in his voice. That wasn't funny! Why was… "Sorry." He sat down on the bench, his head in his hands. "Sorry…that wasn't funny. I just…I'm not quite reacting appropriately to things today." She nodded mutely, waiting for him to get his emotions back under control.

"I…I'm sorry, Tim." He raised his head at the despair in her voice, recognizing for the first time that she thought _she_ was to blame for everything. He felt another hysterical laugh welling up, and squashed it ruthlessly.

"Cass…it wasn't your fault." She shrugged, obviously not believing him. He started to speak, but she suddenly glared at him and poked him in the shoulder…hard. "Ow! What…"

"Well, it wasn't _your_ fault _either_." At least…if Alfred wouldn't let it be _her_ fault, why should she let it be _his_ fault?

"But…" She raised her eyebrow, daring him to disagree. He sighed. "Right. Gotcha." She could tell he wasn't quite convinced, but he was at least willing to suspend self-guilt sessions until they finished the case, just as she had.

"Now what?" He looked at her in surprise. She was watching him carefully…letting him make the calls from now on. That was…nice. She apparently trusted him…more than Batman did, anyway. He swallowed hard. Well…if she thought he could handle it, he wasn't going to let her down. He gave her a grim smile.

"Now? Well…I guess we get to work."

* * *

To be continued… 


	12. Chapter 12

"I don't like this."

"Well, I'm not exactly having a party here myself."

"_He_ doesn't know, does he?"

"…um… I hope not. I don't think he was paying much attention, and she didn't exactly go into detail or anything."

"We aren't going to be able to keep this from him, you know…especially if we want to have any sort of case against Cain. Or maybe even just to clear Mrs. Drake."

"…"

"I'm just saying." Silence once again met her on the other end and she pressed her hand against her throbbing head. This was _not_ going well. She didn't know how they were going to be able to prove Cain's guilt without Tim finding out that his dad was apparently _tortured_ for …who knows _how_ long, before finally being killed. "Nightwing?"

"Yeah, sorry. I…ugh." She waited patiently, glad for once not to be "out there"…she didn't think she wanted to see what he was going to see…then again, he had a tiny camera in place so she would have the video evidence if needed…so much for avoiding unpleasantness.

"Nightwing?"

"You getting this?" She sighed and checked the tape. Yup. It was as gruesome as she'd thought. Most of Jack Drake's head had been completely blown away, leaving plenty of dried blood and exposed grey matter to view. The image showed little other obvious damage.

"Well, what there is to 'get'. I'm not seeing much to help _us_, though."

"Batman mentioned that the damage would be nearly undetectable."

"Yeah, about that. If he knows so much about what to look for, why isn't _he_ the one examining the body?"

"He had…other plans, I guess. He wanted me to keep an eye on Ti, um…Robin, but the kid disappeared…so did Batgirl." He maneuvered so that he could examine the back of the body's neck. "I'm thinking I wouldn't want to be in either of their shoes when he catches up with them…hey, can you see this from your end?" She leaned forward, typing in some commands to zoom in on the area indicated.

"Fingerprints? Those would be noticeable on the autopsy…I thought this was supposed to be undetectable."

"Well, Batgirl could tell even from halfway across the room…there _had_ to have been _some_ evidence…but…" he broke off, sitting back and breaking the image on the picture.

"Hey!"

"Sorry. I just realized something." When no explanation was forthcoming, she drummed her fingers restlessly on the edge of her keyboard and let out and aggrieved sigh.

"And?"

"What? Oh. Yeah, well…the only reason we suspect Cain is because of what Batgirl told us, right?"

"Where are you going with this?"

"Don't get offended…I believe her, I'm not saying that…"

"Then what _are_ you saying?" He nearly growled at her but, deciding that might not be the best response, he simply grunted instead.

"I'm _saying_ that she was the one who supposedly saw these nearly-invisible marks and immediately jumped to the conclusion that Cain did it. What if he _didn't_ do it, but decided confessing to her would be a good way to mess with her head, possibly thinking if she told any of us we'd drive her out of the fold or something."

"That's a good theory…but it suggests that she didn't really see any evidence to point to Cain…why would she see something that wasn't there?" He pondered this for a minute.

"I don't know." She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at his sullen tone. "I'm just saying…how could she see something that wasn't visible to anyone else? And how can we get invisible evidence on tape?"

"Because it's there." Both of them jumped at the gravelly tone as Batman cut into their conversation. Nightwing made a face as a shadow detached itself from one corner of the room and moved forward.

"I thought you were chasing down our errant youngsters."

"They don't need my interference right now." Nightwing shook his head. Batman? Not interfere? What _was_ the world coming to?

"If you say so, boss man." Oracle's voice was a little too cheeky, but apparently Batman was in a lenient mood this evening. Odd.

"Can _you_ see any evidence here to back of Batgirl's story?" Nightwing challenged.

"Not easily, although that finger mark is a first step…either he was getting sloppy or, more likely, he _wanted_ to let us know he was behind Jack Drake's murder. Most of the time this technique focuses on subduing the victim, then striking just the right spots, pressure points, nerve clusters, and so on, to cause them immense amounts of pain, but leaving little or no traces. This bruise suggests Cain was… torturing him for quite some time, an hour at least, possibly to buy time and see if someone else would come home…or even hoping that Batgirl might show up with Robin. Something spooked him, or he just got tired of waiting, and that's when he shot him."  
"Ok, sure. But this little bruise isn't going to prove anything and, judging from the crime scene, I'd be pretty confident in guessing the body would have been at an angle so that she wouldn't have even seen it. What clued _her_ in?" Nightwing's frustration saturated his voice, causing Batman to throw him a sharp look. Nightwing just shrugged it off, and Batman continued.

"His face."

"Uh…what?"

"Look at his face…what's left of it." Nightwing looked, and since the camera was attached to his mask, Babs got a pretty good look at it herself.

"Pretty nasty. Wait…I think I get it. You suppose that's why he used such a powerful gun…not a quick smooth entry, but one that would tear up his head?" Batman nodded.

"If this had been a simple robbery gone awry, or even a domestic dispute as the papers are hypothesizing, he would have been caught unawares…stunned, perhaps, that Dana would do such a thing…but…"

"That's just sick." No one commented on Nightwing's observation. There wasn't much more to say. Jack Drake's face, what was left of it, was contorted in a frozen mask of agony and terror. Not, as Batman had pointed out, an expression found on the average homicide victim, caught by surprise. Batman turned and started to exit.

"Oracle. Get a copy of this sent to the police…anonymously. It's possible the mortician already came up with the same questions, but just in case, raise them again. _Don't_ name any suspects yet…we're not exactly on the best of terms with the GCPD right now…I don't want them ignoring this out of hostility towards me."

"Right." Nightwing just stared at the body for a few moments as Batman disappeared. "Hey. You ok?" He shook himself at her query.

"I guess. I just…I didn't realize how bad it was…and he just walked in on…on _that_! I…I guess I'm surprised Batman's not keeping the kid on a tighter leash…and I'm also worried. I went nuts when my parents died. I was just a kid without any training…and I ran away and…well, you know. But… he's _got_ training. And he seems to have gotten over it so fast…well, not _over_ it…but he's all business again… maybe he's just suppressed it and it's all going to come bursting out and no one will be able to stop him…I mean…he's _good_…not just at fighting, but at being devious and smart and…and with all that _and_ a need for vengeance, there'd be no stopping him. Or….I dunno. Maybe he's just channeling Batman, or something…which almost scares me more, O. It really does."

* * *

Batgirl sighed for about the thirteenth time that hour. _This_, she decided, was why she hadn't ever gotten really good at detective work…too slow. And slow meant bor-_ring_!

"Stop fidgeting." She squelched the urge to stick her tongue out at him. He was doing very well, actually, for someone who'd just witnessed a gruesome death scene less than forty-eight hours before. He was focusing all his concentration on the task at hand, and almost violently avoiding thinking of his father's death…but she supposed it was better than the stupor he'd been in at first.

"Haven't you found _anything_?" Robin lowered his head to his hands, clenched into fists, and she could tell he was mentally counting to ten...that, or just telling himself not to strangle her. They were in her old satellite cave, where Robin had set up a computer station and was searching for…something. He'd gone through lists of his major foes, hoping one would leap out at him as the obvious backer. _That_ had taken two hours…and it seemed none had. _Now_ he was doing _something_ that caused the computer to come up with lots of words, too many and too fast for her to keep track of.

"No." His answer was clipped, frustrated. "No no no no _NO_!" She tensed, preparing for an attack, but it didn't come. Instead he slumped forward, clenching his fist against the table. She edged closer, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder. He jerked, trying to pull away, but enough of _some_ part of his mind was seeking comfort, and she recognized this in spite of his anger, that she didn't let that deter her. His shoulders were shaking, and she looked away, uncomfortable with his grief. She didn't know how to share it, and she knew she couldn't lessen the pain.

"Do you know…" she jumped, not expecting the quiet, choked voice emerging from beneath his arm. "I…I never got over it."

"It?"

"Maybe he was right…" He sat up suddenly, nearly whacking her in the nose with the back of his head. "He never wanted me to be Robin…and he was right! It…it _killed_ him! And I never…" his breathing was getting ragged again and Batgirl considered her options. Better to get it over with, she supposed. That decided, she took his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. She looked him straight in the eye, leaned towards him a bit…and smacked him, hard, sending him out of his seat and onto the ground.

"Ow! What'dja do _that_ for?" He was angry now. Good. Angry she could work with.

"You were…panicking. No time for that." He clenched his fists, wanting to strike out at her…_needing_ to strike out at _someone_. She cocked her head to the side, wondering if he'd follow through. Nope. Too nice. _Sorry_, she mentally told him as she prepared herself to attack. She lunged at him, barely giving him enough time to duck.

"Hey!" And then he lost it. All the anger, the rage, the self-blame exploded as he flew at her. She didn't fight back…too hard. She mostly blocked his moves…letting him wear himself out. Just as she thought he was tiring and she started to let down her guard, he made one last surprise move…she didn't think even _he_ knew he was going to do it…but it caught her across the chin, knocking her to the ground. She lay there for a second, stunned…more that he'd surprised her than from any pain…but the fury had left him, and the sight of her lying motionless made him pale.

"Oh geez…Cass…are you ok? I didn't mean to…." She held up her hand, warding of his remorse, and pushed herself up to a sitting position.

"I'm fine. You feeling…better?" He stared at her for a second, a confused look on his face. Then he fell back to a sitting position as well, a bright red staining his cheeks as comprehension dawned. He scowled at her.

"You think giving me a fight will just make everything all better!" She flinched at his tone, realizing that perhaps her plan had backfired. "You think…what? That I need to 'get it out of my system' or something? Or, wait. You were sent to baby-sit me…keep me out of the action! You…" Yup. It had backfired. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he continued to rage at her while she tried to figure out what went wrong. It had worked with Batman…well, with her, actually. She had been _so_ mad at him, and they'd fought and then…well, then it was ok again. But she had no experience with fixing something like this. There had never been any comforting of pain when she'd trained with Cain. If she was hurt, especially if she cried, he would just fight her again, or make her fight someone else. It had always worked for her…but then again, she sighed, she wasn't _like_ anyone else…she was different. She would _always _be different. She sighed.

Robin was turning a very interesting shade of reddish-purple as he freaked out. She wanted to intervene, make him stop…but now she didn't know how. She stood, brushing herself off. Well. If he didn't want her help, she wouldn't offer it. Instead she sat down in the chair he'd vacated and concentrated on the computer screen. It would take her much longer to read it herself, but apparently Robin wasn't feeling quite up to the challenge.

"Um…" Hmmm. This was a problem. The screen was covered in words…teeny tiny words and, while she _could_ read them…she _could_…there _were_ an awful lot of them. She peeked back at Robin who finally seemed to have worn himself out. He was sitting on her bed, his face in his hands, not doing much of anything. She sighed again. Maybe trying to solve the case alone, just the two of them, hadn't been such a good idea after all. She shrugged and turned back to the computer. Maybe if she could just get the computer to show her _pictures_ of all these people, rather than the whole file on them…

"Whoops." Now the computer was only showing _numbers_. She growled, actually _growled_ at it.

"What?" She jumped. Robin had snuck up on her…_her_! No one _ever_ snuck up on her! She shrugged and mumbled something unintelligible. He reached over her shoulder and tapped a few keys, bringing the previous readout back to the screen.

"Thnks" Another mumble. She knew she was being petty…but _she_ had wanted to figure it out. Still…Robin was helping again…what was it she'd heard about Greek horses? Or…no. It was _gift_ horses and Greeks _bearing_ gifts. She looked up, intending to apologize, but stopped short at the look on Robin's face.

"What?" She looked back at the screen, as if the jumble of words might have somehow transformed themselves into something she, too, could understand. They hadn't. She sighed. "_What_?" Her tone was a bit more…well, _she_ wouldn't call it whiney, but _Robin_ might…this time.

"Here." He reached out and pointed to…a…date. Yup. That was what he pointed to…she bit her lip to keep from blurting it out…she still felt a bubble of joy each time she succeeded in reading something.

"What about it?" He frowned, and she feared for a second that it was because she was being _stupid_…but he wasn't looking at her.

"That's an entry from…well…when I wasn't being Robin." She looked again, and tried to make out the first sentence. Now it was her turn to frown.

"Hey. Are these….these aren't _your_ files." Her tone turned indignant and Robin reddened.

"Well mine aren't as complete as Batman's…and besides..."

"But you were supposed to be looking at the files…the doi…doss…" She stood and started pacing, frustrated.

"Dossiers?"

"Yeah. Just about the criminals you were trying to investigate. These are…"

"They still have to do with the case!" She heard a pleading tone in his voice and felt her anger start to dissolve. "These are more detailed…they include specific encounters not just a list of attributes and crimes. And…" she held up a hand to stop him.

"Fine, ok, all right. You want to hack into Batman's private files, you do that. Now…" She put one hand on her hip and thrust a finger accusingly at the computer. "…_what _is the importance of that day?" Robin glanced back at the screen and a grim determination stole over him.

"That's what I intend to find out."

* * *

To be continued… 


	13. Chapter 13

"That doesn't make _any _sense!" Robin sighed and closed his eyes, counting slowly to ten…or at least _trying_ to…in order not to lose his patience.

"Yes it _does_, Cass." She stopped her foot tapping and shot him a _look_. He sighed…why bother trying to hide things from her anyway? Of course his irritation would be obvious. But…she was a _little _sensitive about thinking she was being called stupid…and…

"I'm _not_ stupid." Robin winced. Oh-_kay_, then. Bad idea to even _think_ the word, apparently.

"I didn't _say…_ok…ok…" he held up his hand to prevent her from interrupting. "I didn't even _think_ that you were stupid. I _didn't_," he insisted at her disbelieving look.

"But…"  
"Cassandra, I would be the _last_ person to think you were dumb just because something doesn't make sense. Stupidity is not a word that can be used to describe you. You know things…things about movement and fighting that I'll _never_ understand. Does this make _me_ stupid?" She seemed to consider this for a second, then her shoulders slumped in defeat and she shook her head. "Well then, there you go." He looked so proud of himself that he was tempted to smack him. Lucky for him, she decided he was still in too fragile an emotional state for that. She humphed.

"Well you were _still_…frustrated with me."

"With the situation…the _situation_…not with you." She glared at him suspiciously, but he was telling the truth, so she relaxed. He stifled a sigh of relief and turned back to the problem at hand. For the past…wow. Had it really been four hours? He blinked, but the time remained the same. Yup…four hours…four _long_ hours since he'd found the entry in Batman's log that he'd _thought_ would be a lead. And it had been…just not as obvious a lead as he'd hoped.

The entry had been from a night months before…while he hadn't been Robin. It had been about two months after his dad had found out and flipped out…he winced at the sarcastic tone in his mind. His dad was dead…_dead_. Deceased, departed, lifeless…gone. And here he was _still_ bitter over his father's inability to accept him for who he was…Robin. He knew Cass didn't understand… else she wouldn't have tried beating him up as a way to get him to calm down. But it didn't matter how calm he was or how logical any of the arguments put forth by Cass or Bruce or Dick…none of it mattered. Because his dad had died because he, Tim Drake, was Robin. And that made it his fault.

He closed his eyes against the pain. His fault…he opened them again with a new determination. This would _not_ happen again. A small voice tried to pipe up with the observation that this was _exactly_ how Batman had gotten to be the way he was, but he squashed it ruthlessly, turning his attention back to the problem at hand.

It was now nearly dawn, and they'd made very little progress. Cass had long since ditched her Batgirl costume for a set of sweats she apparently kept it the cave. While he'd researched she'd taken a few breaks to work out…and he found himself envying her. It would be nice to be able to just pound out one's frustration's on a punching bag or workout dummy. Unfortunately, that wouldn't solve the case…he sighed and stretched, his neck making funny little popping noises that made him wince.

"Ow." He glanced over as Cass spoke, wondering if she'd hurt herself in her workout or something. She rolled her eyes.

"Your neck is _not _supposed to sound like that." Her comment startled a laugh out of him, and she grinned back at him in response.

"I don't really think my neck is _supposed_ to sound like anythi…hey!" She had risen from her spot on the mat where she'd been stretching and attacked him with claw-like fingers.

"Relax." She hit a particularly tight spot and caused a few more pops. "That's not good." Robin rolled his eyes. No kidding. He tried to relax as she'd said…but it wasn't happening. Well _really_! How could he relax when she was…

"Ow!"

"Big baby." He squirmed as she managed to massage each and every sore spot…well, if one considered unrelenting fingers digging into his neck and shoulders a _massage_...

"I don't think you should…" she stepped back, and he felt suddenly bereft. He hadn't _meant_ it…and he hadn't realized how much he was craving human contact.

"Feel better?" He shrugged his shoulders, rolling his neck around a bit.

"Yeah." She made a face at him.

"You don't have to sound so surprised." He grinned and she rolled her eyes. Neither said anything for a few seconds… then her demeanor changed, and she broke eye contact and turned away to study the computer…a rather pointless exercise, as he'd already read that particular readout six times. He swallowed, feeling the tension spring back into place between them. For a minute there, they'd fallen back into their old camaraderie. It had been…nice. More than nice. He found himself pondering where their relationship had been headed before everything had happened…and wished he could turn back the pages of time. And, a selfish part of him whispered, not just to bring his dad back. They used to laugh, and talk…now if they weren't in the middle of a tense silence, they were arguing. While Cass claimed she had faith in him, he didn't really believe her, and the lack of trust was causing him a nearly overwhelming pang of loss. He cleared his throat and fiddled with the keyboard.

"Soooo….." He had no idea what to say. He hated feeling so awkward with her! Apparently she felt the same way…she flashed him a half-hearted smile, her intentions clear. She wanted the old friendship back as much as he did.

"Could you…explain it again?" She had such a hopeful expression on her face that he just had to laugh. She grinned and they were back at ease. Robin glanced back at the screen, hoping they could keep it that way.

"Weeeell. Ok. You remember that night Batman sent you to my apartment while he and…" he broke off, feeling a twinge of remorse at Stephanie's early demise. He never did learn why she'd betrayed him like that, but sometimes he still wondered if he couldn't have dome _something_ differently to keep her from her self-destructive path.

"That wasn't your fault either, you know." Cass was staring at him intently, and he sighed.

"I know. It's just…" he shrugged, unsure how to voice his feelings.

"Sad?" He gave a little smile at her understatement, but nodded.

"It's ok." He glanced up, startled at the comforting tone in her voice. Even after everything he sometimes had trouble thinking of her as having a gentle side. "I get sad too." His mouth twitched and he let it slide into a half-smile.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." They sat there for a moment in awkward, and yet strangely comfortable, silence…lost in their own thoughts. Robin finally shook himself and turned back to the computer. Cass straightened as well, prepared to do battle _again._ After all, they'd already argued this out twice before.

"_Anyway_…someone was out to get me then, too. Batman notes an assassin named Scarab…methodically killing families including boys who look like…"

"I _know_. _I_ told _you_ all that that same night!" He bit his lip against a smile at her outburst.

"Yes, I _know_ you know…I'm just trying to put it all together. Batman and…um…Robin fought Scarab and defeated her, but she escaped and disappeared." He had to chuckle a little at that…not that it was terribly funny, given that she was a serial killer assassin…but not only had she escaped…she'd made off with the Batplane, leaving it for Alfred to pick up a few days later. _That_ had to give anyone a chuckle…after all, how many assassins would leave a stolen vehicle of _any _kind, let alone the _Batplane_ for the owners to come retrieve?

"What?" He blinked at Cass' question… her rather _impatient_ question. She did seem to be losing her patience quite a lot lately. "What's so funny?" she insisted.

"Huh? Oh, nothing. Anyways Scarab was a hired assassin. Out to get _me._ Now it's happening again…and I don't know about _you_, but I don't think there's any _way _it's a coincidence. _So_…" he hesitated. This was where he'd always lost Cass before. "So, we need to find this Scarab person and find out who _she_ was working for…then we'd know who was after me now." Cass gave him a dirty look.

"I still say it doesn't make sense. You want to find someone who wants to kill you by asking someone else who's already _tried_ to kill you and you don't think any of them are going to kill you?" He remained silent for a minute, trying to puzzle through her tangled argument.

"Um…I didn't say I don't think they're going to kill me…I _hope_ they don't… and I like to think I'm good enough to hold my own… but I know the dangers." His voice dropped in tone…his whole body tensing up as he spoke. "I know how fragile life is." Cass winced, feeling her own guilt in his father's death. "But I can't take the risk that anyone else will get hurt because of me. I _won't_ take that risk. And if that means that I have to confront a few assassins and risk getting myself killed, then that's the way it has to be!"

She paled at this last statement, but he had turned and stalked away from her so he didn't notice. She swallowed hard…realizing for the first time they'd all been wrong about him. Batman, Nightwing…heck, even she had held some tiny fears that he'd go out and do something rash…something to cross the line and do something he'd regret. But this was so much worse.

"Wait!" She hurried after him, as he was exiting the cave. She didn't think he wanted to die…in fact she _knew_ he didn't…but… "Wait for me!" He paused, and she caught up with him, pulling the hood of her sweatshirt up to help hide her face since she didn't have her mask anymore. "Where are you going?"

"Back to the Manor. Didn't you see what time it was? I'm sure Dana will worry if I don't come back." He shot her a wry smile. "She may accept my being Robin…but that doesn't mean she's happy about it." Cass kind of just nodded, a sinking feeling taking up residence in her chest. Nope. Tim didn't want to die…but he thought he _had_ to…not that he had to _die_…but that he was willing to take any risk without too much concern for the consequences. He didn't see any other way to protect the ones he cared about. If he couldn't defeat his stalker without crossing the line…and she knew for a fact, now, that there was no way he _would_ cross it… he may die. And if he died, he would no longer be a target, and everyone he cared about…they'd be safe.

She squared her shoulders. The fact that this mindset wasn't too uncommon in heroes…thinking they had to sacrifice themselves for the good of the world or mankind or…something…meant nothing to her. Tim _did _mean something. And she wasn't about to let him heedlessly throw himself away because he was stupid enough to think it was the right thing to do.

* * *

"I think it would be a good idea."

"And I _don't_." Dick allowed himself a small grin. It was a rare occasion that he wasn't the recipient of that particular glare…make that _two_ glares… and he felt certain he ought to enjoy obscurity while it lasted. If there were two more stubborn people in all the world…he frowned, realizing he'd just been about to use the exact same phrase that had been used against _him_ all too often.

"It would only be for a week or two…a change of scenery would do him…"  
"_In_. It would do him _in_. That _is _what you were going to say, isn't it?"

"Of course that's not what I was going to say." Dick sighed. He supposed he'd better make his presence known before the two of them tore each other to shreds.

"Ahem."

"And _furthermore_, I would like to see how you intend to get Mrs. Drake to agree to this harebrained scheme…"

"Harebrained?" Most people would have recognized that the deepening tone was _not_ something to ignore.

"…of yours and let Tim go off…" Then again, no one could say any of them were anything like "most people".

"_Harebrained?_" If anything his tone was even _more_ dangerous. Dick sighed again and moved into the light, figuring he would do well to save the woman he loved from certain doom. Hmmm…that had a nice ring to it. He wondered if…

"_What?_" He blinked, caught by surprise as two pairs of angry eyes turned their attention towards him. He fidgeted uncomfortably…maybe he should have let "the woman he loved" handle this herself. He had a feeling it would have been better for his health.

"Um…If I may interrupt…"

"No."

"You may _not_." He ignored them.

"Let me get this straight. You…" he jabbed an accusing finger at Bruce, "said Tim could help with the investigation…then sent _me_ to the morgue…understandable…" he held up his hand when Bruce tried to interrupt…putting himself back of the receiving end of a disgruntled glare, "as the kid shouldn't have to be put through that particular ordeal. But still…you promised he could help and now you want to send him out of Gotham for a few weeks where he couldn't have any possible chance of aiding our search? Do I have that about right?" Bruce didn't answer, but Barbara nodded emphatically, convinced by Dick's tone that he was in agreement with her. Dick shrugged. "Sounds like a plan. So…"

"_What_?" He winced. "Richard Grayson, are you _crazy_?"

"If I'm not, I'm sure I'm soon gonna be." He muttered under his breath. "Babs, just hear me out…"

"No. No way. No, no, _no_! Like I said, even if you _could _get Mrs. Drake to agree to this, Tim would never fall for it! And he'd resent it and he'd go out and do something completely foolhardy and rash and ..."

"You finished?" She hated being interrupted…she really did. He bit back a grin.

"I'm just getting started!"

"Well let me finish for you." He grew serious. "Babs…someone is gunning for Tim. That means we're in a race to find this guy before he finds Tim or anyone else." He paused, letting his words sink in. "Now I know that Bruce just wanted him out of reach of temptation…"

"_Excuse me?_"

"Cut the crap, Bruce. We all know how you are. Even if you _do _trust Tim not to do something he'll regret, you're never going to give him the chance to prove it. It'd be too dangerous." He looked Bruce straight in the eye, unspoken messages passing between them.

"I…"

"_Any_way…" Dick spoke loudly, covering up any attempt Bruce might have made…to agree or disagree…it didn't really matter. "Tim _does_ need to be in on this case…but maybe looking at it from other angles, outside of Gotham, wouldn't hurt." He hesitated. "I could have him come stay with me. I mean…Blüdhaven's close enough to get here if there's any leads, but far enough away to maybe throw any would-be assassins off the scent." He fell silent, looking between the two of them, searching for a sign that they'd understood a single word he'd said.

"I get what you're saying, Dick, I _do_. But I stick by my earlier statement. Tim is going to resent this…he'll see it as interference. You try to take him out of Gotham…"

"Too late." Three heads swiveled around to the entrance to the kitchen. Cass stood there, white as a ghost.

"What do you _mean_… 'too late'?" Dick insisted, a sick feeling taking up residence in his stomach. Tim…Tim was his little brother…nothing could have happened to him…why if he…

"I… I lost him."

"You what?" He winced…sometimes Babs seemed to forget that the people around her needed to use their auricular organs for hearing things _beyond_ her latest screech. If possible, Cassandra turned even paler at Babs' outburst.

"I didn't _mean _to! I…he…" she took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. "The other night he said he wanted to find Scarab and…"

"Scarab?" Cass blinked, seemingly confused by Dick's question.

"Um…yeah. She's an assassin…she…" she glanced at Bruce, realizing that no one else had been let in on the fact that the threat to Tim's life wasn't a recent development. He didn't look happy, but he didn't move to stop her, either.

"She what? What happened?" There was a strained quality to Babs' voice, and Cass decided it would be better for all of them if she got to the point…quickly.

"She was hunting Tim months ago. Before."

"Before what?"

"Before the gang war. But after Tim quit." Dick straightened.

"You mean someone's been hunting Tim for…" he did a quick calculation, "over 6 months?" He whirled, aiming an accusing glare at Bruce. "And you didn't _tell_ me?" Bruce simply grunted.

"Dick…" Babs grabbed his elbow in warning.

"This is _so_…so…" He couldn't get the rest out, which was probably for the best, Cass decided, as he was dangerously close to pronouncing that everything was Bruce's fault. The fact that Bruce would most likely agree wouldn't help matters, as it would only drive him farther from everyone, isolating himself and making it _very_ difficult for the "Bat-family" to function as such.

"Hey!" Cass was tempted to knock _all_ of their heads together, but restrained herself as they did return their attention to her at her outburst.

"Sorry. So, this wasn't a recent encounter?" Cass shook her head, unable to stop the guilty blush that crept up her face as she realized Batman was going to know they…well, really it was Tim's idea…hacked into his files.

"No. I fought Scarab with…Stephanie." Bruce paused. "When she was Robin." He added for clarification. "Scarab had already killed eight boys and their families…boys fitting a profile that matched up with possible suspects for the identity of Robin…Tim, that is." Cass nodded.

"Well, Tim thought if he found _her_ he could get her to tell him who hired her, since Cain claimed he didn't know, and he was going to go look for her."

"And you didn't _stop_ him?" Cass glared at Babs.

"He was very determined."

"Determined? Cass, you've got to be kidding! You're like the world's greatest sneak, you read body language, and there's no _way_ Tim… or almost _anyone_, for that matter…could beat you at hand-to-hand combat!" Cass heaved an angry and frustrated sigh.

"Well he was _very_ determined! And I'm _not_ the greatest sneak!"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it! You are one of the best when it comes to stealth and shadowing people. How on _Earth_ could you lose him?"

"Hetrickedme." she mumbled.

"I beg your pardon?" She raised beseeching eyes to Bruce who simply raised an eyebrow, silently commanding her to continue.

"He _tricked_ me. I…he figured out that I was following him." She didn't bother to mention _why_ she'd been following him. Let them come to their own conclusions. "He snuck out. He was wearing old, plain clothes. He…I don't know how he did it! He made a…a _second_ Tim. And I followed the wrong one." She dropped her gaze to the floor, disgusted with herself.

"You mean he gave a second set of clothes to someone, tried to get them to imitate him?" Dick inquired.

"No. I…I would have been able to tell. If it wasn't Tim." At his confused look, Babs broke in.

"It's true. She recognized Superboy when we were on our cruise just from the way he moved. It was like a…a fingerprint or something, right?" Cass nodded.

"Did you find anything?" Cass shook her head. Bruce considered this. "Where were you when you lost him?" She hesitated, thinking, then scowled.

"It was by his old…um. I mean… I don't know if it's really 'his old' but…"

"For goodness sake, Cass! Spit it out!"

"His apartment. It was in his old neighborhood." Bruce nodded thoughtfully.

"So he could have set it up at any time in the past two years, for any number of reasons. Fine. I'll handle this." Thus having dealt with the situation, at least in his mind, he turned to leave only to be stopped by three voices raised in indignant protest.

"I thought you agreed that _I_ was going to deal with him…so he doesn't get some kind of resentment for authority or something! You'll just botch everything!"

"You can't just hunt him down like a common criminal, Bruce! I mean…this is _Tim_!" But the loudest protest, the one that actually got him to pause, was much less eloquent.

"_Nooo!_" It came out as more of a howl and effectively silenced everyone in the room. Three stunned faces regarded her at if she was some kind of new species of rabid monkey. She knew she was most likely beet red. Bruce studied her with unexpected patience. He caught her eye.

"Why?" Unspoken messages passed between them…she didn't _think_ he knew the extent of her feelings, but he read her well enough to know something deeper was going on. She couldn't explain why she didn't want anyone else to know of her suspicions…she just _knew_ that if she got them too involved she was going to lose him. He'd feel betrayed or… she shuddered. For some reason she had a strange feeling that if too many of them got involved he wouldn't just feel betrayed…he wouldn't end up surviving whatever encounter was approaching.

"I…I…" Bruce nodded. She didn't know how much he'd seen in her face…but it seemed to be enough.

"Cassandra, you come with me. You two…" he paused. "Find something to tell Mrs. Drake."

"But…" they'd never know what it was Dick was about to say, because Bruce simply walked out of the room and Cass had to hurry to keep up. She hoped she hadn't made a mistake involving Bruce in this…but she had a _bad_ feeling about this whole thing. And she knew she wasn't a detective. Tim was her detective…she had come to rely on _him_…so to find him she was going to _have _to accept Bruce's…or rather, Batman's…interference. She only hoped they weren't too late.

* * *

To be continued… 


	14. Chapter 14

He was starting to think this was a bad idea. Actually…he'd started thinking that _hours_ ago…now he was fairly certain of it. He'd managed to make his way to Turkey… Istanbul, to be precise...and _not _Constantinople, he grimaced as his sense of humor decided now was a good time to kick in… where he'd hoped to find another lead on Scarab's whereabouts. Ever since that first lead, found hidden deep within one of Batman's secret files, led him here, luck seemed to have abandoned him. For a moment he wondered if tricking Cass had been a good idea…but he couldn't forget the stabbing pain her apparent distrust had caused. For all her talk about helping him get to work on solving his father's murder…and saving his own life in the bargain…she was keeping a closer eye on him than _Batman_! So he'd led her back to his old neighborhood. He'd set up a holographic net when he'd first moved there…it was meant to help him sneak back home, or out of the apartment, without getting caught. But it worked to throw her off the scent just as well.

"Damnit." He muttered to himself. He wished Cass had trusted him more…he sure could have used her help…he didn't speak Turkish and he could use her interpretation of body language in his search. Then again, they apparently even had a different body language…so far he thought he'd managed to offend or portray the wrong idea to at least seven individuals… so maybe she wouldn't have been so much help after all. Yeah, right. She hadn't been read to read _English_ or_ American_ body language, but all kinds.

"You! Boy!" He glanced over to where a man seemed to be beckoning him to…well, it could be to go away, or possibly… "Come here!" Well, that answered _that_. He raised his eyebrow questioningly. The man kind of flapped his hand at him again, which Tim decided must mean "come". He moved towards the man, keeping a close eye out for any suspicious characters lurking about.

"Yes?" The man studied him for a minute, then looked down at a sheet of paper he'd held clutched in his other hand.

"Yes. It is you. Come with me." Tim frowned. Did this guy really think he was _that_ stupid? The man took a few steps down a side alley, then turned back impatiently. Apparently he _did_.

"Um. I think I'll pass." He started to turn, but the man's voice stopped him.

"But…you are the _one_!" Oh great. Was this some kind of joke? This guy was starting to sound like some kind of fanatical… "She said I _must_ bring you to her!" Oh she _did_, did she? He hesitated. It would really _too_ much to hope that this was the lead he'd been looking for. On the other hand, what "she" would be around here looking for him. On the _other_ hand…he grinned to himself. How many hands did he think he had, anyway?

"She? Who are you talking about?" The man didn't answer, apparently taking his question as an affirmation that he'd follow, as he scurried into the shadows. Tim shrugged. Well…he could take care of himself. It was most likely a trap, but it was the best lead he'd had in over a day. With one last glance around, he followed the strange man into the darkness.

* * *

"You want to talk about it?" Coming from Batman, that question was eerie enough in and of itself. Coming from Batman in a gentle, almost friendly, tone of voice made it just plain _wrong_.

"No."

"It…might help." Well…at least he sounded as uncomfortable with the idea as she was. Batman heaved a sigh…a very exasperated sigh, and _totally _unlike him. She shivered and tried to compress herself to fit in the farthest corner of her seat away from him.

"Whatever it is you're thinking, it's not true." She glared silently at him. "I _told_ you it was pointless." She blinked at that. Was he talking to her? Was he…wait, he was listening to…Batgirl slumped down in her seat. Oh. He was talking to Babs. Who had most likely been bugging him the entire time they'd been in the Batplane to _talk_ to her…find out what else was going on. Stupid Babs. Cass sighed and took the insult back. Babs was just worried about her…and Tim, of course, and she tended to get a little too…involved…when she was worried.

"I'm fine." She muttered, earning her a glance from Batman. She kicked idly at the panel in front of her. _Sure_ she was fine. Just dandy. After all, who wouldn't be fine after being tricked by one's best friend, interrogated by Batman, and left with the knowledge that should Tim die it would be all her fault? Well, no. Not _all _her fault. She wasn't _that _far gone…not anymore, at least. She knew Tim was_ supposedly_ responsible for his own actions…and, of course, there was always the mysterious person behind the attacks.

"I said I'll handle it." If possible, Cass slumped even further down in her seat. Now she was something to be handled? She was beginning to see why Tim had wanted to do this on his own…and it quite possibly _hadn't_ been any sort of distrust of her on his part. Maybe he figured everyone would try to get involved, go crazy, and decide that he was a thing to be "handled" too.

"Batgirl, you are going to have to tell me what's going on before we land." She flinched at the steely tone in his voice. At least he was back to being Batman instead of trying to be friendly or something.

"I _did_." She was slammed roughly against her restraints as he brought the craft to a sudden halt, allowing it to simply hover over the dark expanse of ocean beneath them.

"I don't have time for games."

"I wasn't…" he cut her off with a sharp gesture.

"You haven't told me everything. And that's fine…I don't kneed to know, _unless it compromises the mission._ This investigation…this case, has the potential to become deadly…even more so than it has already proven to be. I can't go into this blind. You have to tell me what I need to know." She shuddered at his intensity…it was feeling a bit _too _close in the cockpit.

"I wasn't hiding anything." She hesitated. Well, not _really_.

"I didn't say you were…" in other words, she'd given herself away by jumping to that conclusion. "…simply that you need to make sure you've told me everything that is relevant to this investigation." She heard plainly what he left unspoken…she had to talk if she wanted to be able to reach Tim in time. She fidgeted, trying to figure out some other way…but this was _Batman_ she was talking to. In the end, she supposed she didn't stand a chance.

"I…I told _most_ of it." He nodded curtly. And she _had_, too. She had told nearly everything she'd known…_Batman_ had been the one to figure out where to find Scarab. But she supposed there were some things she might have…forgotten. "But…you can't let him see you." He raised an eyebrow at her imperious command. Well, he _did._ Just because no one _else_ would have known because of his cowl didn't mean _she_ didn't.

"I…see."

"Well, he thinks you'll try to stop him from…"

"I wasn't planning on it." She could tell he wasn't pleased with the direction the conversation was taking. She knew he _thought_ he hadn't been planning on it, but she'd also observed a subconscious belief that Tim would fail. And while it was quite likely that he wasn't even aware of this belief, indeed, she knew that subconsciously he never really _quite_ believed _anyone_ would succeed…it was why he was such a control freak…she also knew it existed and that Tim was smart enough to recognize it…though dumb enough to consider it a threat.

"Well, he still _thinks_ you were. So if he sees you he'll think that's why you're there. To stop him. And…" she hesitated. This wasn't _really_ important to the task of finding Tim…but it may be of assistance once they met up with him. "You realize he blames himself?" The look he gave her probably proclaimed her an idiot for doubting that fact, but she ignored it. At least in _this_ instance she knew he wasn't implying that she was stupid. "If you take over, he's going to think he failed and…"

"You're not telling me anything I don't already know." She shrugged helplessly.

"Well I _told_ you I already told you everything!" She glared at him as he simply eyed her consideringly.

"If he thinks I'm there to stop him, and he already tricked you so he could work alone, what makes you think he'll accept your appearing in Turkey without any explanation." She opened her mouth to answer but nothing came out. She hadn't thought that far ahead! All she'd known was a deep-seated surety way down in her stomach that Tim was in grave danger. She hadn't thought about the fact that he might try to lose her again.

"Um…" Batman had a bit of a look of smug superiority and she had to restrain herself from an outburst that would surely cause her to get left behind. She knew he was "the world's greatest detective" but he didn't have to rub it in that he'd found the hole in her plan.

"If you can get Tim to trust you again, I'll leave you to handle the situation as you see fit…" she gaped at him. For Batman, this…this…_trust_ was so rare that for a moment she wondered if she'd fallen into a parallel universe or something. "…_But…_" Oh. Never mind. "You have to promise me you'll alert me if anything…_anything_ comes up. I know Tim's a good detective himself, and I understand his need to finish this case on his own…and, you did well enough against Joker" the admission was grudging, but it warmed her nonetheless, "but I want to be kept informed of _every_ development." She gave a slight nod. In truth, what else could she do but agree? He hesitated, unsure of whether he trusted her agreement or not, then flipped on the engines again, sending them hurtling towards their destination.

"Just remember this, Cassandra," she flinched at the use of her name while in costume…he must _really _want to catch her attention…after all, _he_ was the one who insisted on absolute immersion into the role one was playing… "I'm holding _you_ responsible. Anything goes wrong…it's on _your _head."

**

* * *

**

"My head." Batgirl realized that talking to herself was probably _not_ the best way to go about her task of hunting down Tim without being caught. If nothing else, it had the potential to give away her position…not to mention that she'd heard that people who talked to themselves weren't exactly considered to be in the best mental state. But she couldn't shake the chill that had taken up residence deep within her at Batman's proclamation. Logically, of course he couldn't actually work on the case _with_ Tim, since, as she'd mentioned, Tim wasn't exactly in the most trusting frame of mind at the moment. So it was really the logical choice to have Batgirl find Tim and report back on their progress. The fact that said reporting could end up giving Tim even _more_ reason to mistrust her hadn't seemed to cross his mind…or perhaps he just hadn't cared.

Either way, he had, in effect, given whatever part of her was in charge of self-guilt free range to bring up all those bad feelings again. Anything went wrong it was on her head? In truth, it hadn't quite sounded right at the time. She hadn't ever known Batman to be overly dramatic…not in his speeches to his partners, anyway. Oh, he was controlling, overbearing, and often distrustful of even those closest to him. But one thing he'd _never_ done was shove the blame onto someone else's shoulders. He was much more likely to believe himself responsible for whatever disaster befell them.

So why had he done differently today? The little voice that already blamed her for Tim's dad's death whispered that he had done so because it was, in truth, her fault. But she didn't believe that…not anymore. True, Cain had claimed he had done what he did because of her, but it was obvious that that wasn't the case. After all, Tim had been the target of _someone_ for quite a long time. So why else would Batman blame…

"Ooph!" She had allowed herself to become distracted. She recognized this as her first mistake as she collided with a rather solid-feeling body. Her second mistake was quickly revealed to her as she stepped back to get a better view of the person she'd run into, already tensing in case they were hostile. The mistake in such a movement was that it also allowed the _other_ person to get a good look at _her_.

"_Batgirl_?" Her heart sank. This wasn't exactly the way she'd thought to meet up with Tim. She _had_ hoped to have some more time to figure out a plan to make him trust her again.

"Umm…..hi?" Tim tensed up, and she waited for the explosion…but to her surprise nothing happened. She cocked her head to the side. Tim seemed to be torn between something…and she had a feeling it had to do with her…whether or not he was going to ever talk to her again. This might be her one and only chance! "Listen, I have to tell you…" he held up his hand, silencing her, then glanced around.

"Did you see a man come this way? He was about five-eleven, with a dark mustache and…"

"Um…no." He seemed exasperated at her answer…rather than at _her_…which just didn't make _any_ sense. "I wanted to tell you that I…"

"Never mind." He turned away…more from preoccupation than from irritation at her. She crossed her arms impatiently.

"_No_. I have to talk to you!" He glanced at her over his shoulder, then shrugged, apparently unconcerned…but she noticed his face had tensed as she spoke.

"I don't have time for this right now. Maybe later." She bit her lip. Maybe a different approach?

"Can…can I help?" He was surprised. She didn't know _why_…but something had obviously made him lose faith in her. He'd run from her in Gotham and now her offer of assistance was met with confusion.

"Why?" She sighed.

"What do you _mean_, why? We were _s'posed_ to be working together all along! Why'd you…" she broke off, not wanting to betray her pain at his mistrust of her.

"Why'd I what?" She shrugged. "You mean, why'd I send you off on a wild goose chase back in Gotham?" She was glad her cowl covered the red flush she felt staining her cheeks. His voice had been so…so unlike him. Sneering. Bitter. And more than a little smug at having outwitted her. "Maybe the question that_ should_ be asked is why I had to lose you in the first place?" He advanced towards her, his barely contained rage making her back away warily. "You said you _trusted_ me! You _lied_! You lied to me!" She winced as his voice raised to a shout.

"I didn't…"

"Right. Sure. Whatever." He made a dismissive motion with his hand. "See ya." He strode away and she realized she had to act quickly. He probably had no idea what hit him, but within seconds he was pinned down, Batgirl straddling his back, holding his arms down so he couldn't fight back.

"I did _not_ lie. I didn't. I wouldn't…I _couldn't_! _You_ left _me_ out! I was just trying to _help_!" She couldn't tell if her words were getting through, but he'd ceased his struggles. She repeated, quieter, "I just wanted to help."

"Mmphmmmuummmph!"

"What?" He struggled again and she eased up enough for him to raise his head.

"I _said_… 'let me up'!" She hesitated, then complied. He sat up, rubbing his neck, and shot her a look she couldn't interpret. She eyed him warily, only to realize he was doing the same to her. Embarrassed, she looked away.

"I don't believe you." It was worse than any punch she'd ever received. Worse, even, than the bullets Cain had ruthlessly shot into her when she was a child. There was no argument she could make that would make her believe her again if he'd made up his mind.

"Oh…uh…ok." She started to rise, but his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

"I've _seen_ you. I know…I know what you're capable of." If possible, she felt worse. Like her insides were being frozen. She yanked her hand back, standing and backing away from him. He stood as well. She felt as if the world was dropping away from her…that nothing existed anymore except the two of them and the horrible accusations he was hurling at her. A loud rushing noise in her head drowned out his next few words, but she caught the tail end, "…honestly think I'm going to fall for that?" Something within her snapped and she lunged, grabbing the front of his shirt and slamming him back against the wall.

"_Yes_! Yes I expect you to 'fall for it'…to believe me! We're supposed to be _friends_! Friends don't lie to each other! Friends don't turn their backs on one another! And friends _certainly_ don't throw past mistakes back into friend's faces!" She dropped him, and he slid to the ground, a dazed look on his face. She had nearly reached the end of the alley when she heard a small voice.

"I…I'm sorry." She stopped in her tracks, chest heaving with chocking breaths, trying not to let the tears fall. She refused to turn around. "Cass, I'm…I'm _really_ sorry. I didn't…I…" She closed her eyes against his plea, not wanting to give in. Not wanting to find out it was some kind of trick. "_Please_? I…I need your help." She snorted in disbelief, then made the mistake of glancing back at him. He had made no attempt to rise. His face was pale, and there was a defeated slump to his shoulders. A lock of his dark hair fell across his face, shadowing it so she couldn't quite make out his expression. But then, she didn't need to.

"Why? Why didn't you trust me?" Her voice was a mere whisper, the question having slipped out without conscious thought, but… she had to know. His body shook a little.

"I…I _did_…but you were following me and I…" he looked up, his eyes haunted. "I think there's something wrong with me." He sounded so lost, that she found herself next to him on the ground, arms around his shoulders, before she knew it.

"It's ok…"  
"_No. _It's not." He shivered. "I…I haven't been myself lately… I yell at people, push them away…don't trust anyone…but especially the ones closest to me. I keep thinking they're all out to get me. No, not like _that_," she had stiffened at his words, "but like…that _they_ don't trust me to do the right thing." She couldn't answer…she herself had had similar suspicions about Batman's belief in Tim. "And…I don't know. I feel like… like..." He sighed, at a loss for words.

"Like if you keep them away from you they can't get hurt?" He met her eyes for the first time in surprise and nodded. She looked away. She could remember feeling that same way…though in her case not only would they "get hurt"…she had feared that _she_ would be the one to do it…to kill those close to her. It had taken a long time to get past that.

"But…I shouldn't have said those things tonight." She started to answer, but he continued over her protest. "I didn't mean them. I just wanted you to go away. And…part of me _did_ think you had stopped trusting me…after all, you were sneaking around following me. And then when you said you 'couldn't' lie…well, I knew that wasn't true and I guess I just…" She was staring at him strangely. "What?"

"I…" She swallowed, then cleared her throat nervously. "I wasn't saying I couldn't lie. Not in general. Just…not to you." He stared at her for a second, all sorts of things falling into place in his head. He reached out a hand to cup her cheek.

"Cass…I…" a commotion at the end of the alley cut him off. "What the…" but before either of them had a chance to move, dark figures swarmed around them. Batgirl managed to get in a few good hits, but Tim's head was still spinning from being knocked against the wall, and he didn't even make it to his feet before the figures overpowered him. Batgirl, distracted by his predicament, received a nasty whack on the head with a wicked looking club. The bludgeon-wielding figure turned to Tim next. Tim managed to glimpse a heavy ring on one of the attacker's fingers before a sharp, piercing pain sent him into blackness.

* * *

To be continued… 


	15. Chapter 15

Tim was the first to wake up…and upon opening his eyes, he thought he may rather have remained unconscious. The floor was moving sideways, about four feet beneath him, at a dizzying rate. He tried to shift his weight and discovered his arms were pinned back behind him with thick ropes, and his feet had been tied to some kind of peg in the floor.

He managed to crane his neck around to get a better look at the surrounding area. Batgirl's still form was lying in a heap next to him. He swallowed hard, praying she was all right. From this new angle, he realized that they were inside a truck of some sort, which was speeding along a cobblestone road. One tire hit a particularly large stone throwing everything in the truck into chaos. Batgirl groaned and Tim allowed himself a relieved grin. Now. If he could just figure out… another bump caused him to fall over onto Batgirl. She grunted and kind of tried to push him off, before realizing she, too, was bound.

"What…?"

"Shh!" the truck was slowing. He braced himself, preparing to launch himself at his captors, ramming them with his head if necessary…not the _best_ of plans, but it was all he had. A couple figures appeared at the back edge of the truck and reached in, slicing the bonds that held their feet and yanking them upright. They stumbled alongside their silent attackers…Tim was waiting for the opportune moment to break free and Batgirl, he hoped, was following his lead.

They were half-led, half-dragged into a rather non-descript building. _Typical_, Tim thought. But once they breached the outer doors, it seemed that they'd entered a whole separate building entirely. Supercomputers, scanners, advanced weaponry, and a number of items he had difficulty identifying lined the walls of a large room. It actually resembled the Batcave in many respects, and Tim felt a jolt of excitement course through him, in spite of the fact that the person who'd created this place was undoubtedly on the wrong side of the law…and most probably intending bodily harm to himself and Batgirl.

They passed through the room and entered a well-furnished office. It was not unlike something he'd seen on occasion visiting Bruce at Wayne Industries…it rivaled the offices of some of the most powerful CEO's and board members in the world. A high-backed chair was turned away, towards a large window that looked out on a view of the city. Tim blinked, realizing it wasn't a window at all, but a well-disguised video screen displaying footage taken at some other point, presumably higher on the building. After all, they hadn't left the ground floor, and yet the scene would imply that they were at a great height. He filed the fact away, wondering what other footage their kidnapper could call upon when needed.

The man holding Tim's left arm said something in a foreign language. He sounded angry. Batgirl stiffened, but Tim remained relaxed, not wanting to alert them to his own fighting abilities. A woman's voice answered the man, calm and unconcerned. The man seemed to argue with her, tightening his grip on Tim's arm. She replied again, her voice harder now, and the chair swiveled around. The woman in the chair was pretty, with long, dark hair, worn loose. She wore an expensive business suit, with minimal jewelry and decoration. She had an exotic look about her, though Tim couldn't place her nationality, but her skin was a dark tan, and her almond-shaped eyes were the color of rich coffee.

Those same eyes now pierced the man who'd spoken with an icy glare that made him shrink back. He released Tim, as did the other man. He noted that Batgirl's captors did likewise. All four men bowed respectively to the woman and filed silently from the room. Batgirl threw a glance at Tim, but he ignored her, focusing, instead, on the lady seated behind the desk.

"Do forgive them for their roughness, I do hope they didn't cause you too much distress. Would you care for a drink?" She indicated a side table with an expensive set of decanters and glasses. Batgirl moved as if to attack and Tim cleared his throat, shaking his head when she paused and glanced back at him.

"Um, no thanks."

"Very well, then. Have a seat." He remained standing. "I suppose you're wondering why I had you brought here." She sat back, apparently at ease.

"Not really." He shrugged, pleased with the way he managed to keep his face in a politely bored mask. She raised an eyebrow in disbelief, then surprised him by smiling…a not altogether _pleasant_ smile, either.  
"I can see why he found you to be a threat." Tim stiffened. "I'm sure you've worked out _my_ identity…."

"Scarab, I believe?" His face no longer portrayed boredom…a cold intensity had taken its place.

"Mm. Yes. I should have realized that I didn't manage to kill you. I made the mistaken assumption that Batman would only have let that silly girl work under your name if you had ceased living." Batgirl lunged again, this time ignoring Tim's muffled protest, and seized Scarab by her suit collar. "I see you've improved…this costume works much better for you." Tim didn't bother correcting her mistake. She didn't need to know that Stephanie had died not long after the encounter she referred to. Let her think Batgirl was the same girl. It would give them an advantage.

"Ahem." Batgirl looked at him and he was sure she was giving him a death-glare, but she released Scarab and stepped back.

"I should kill you for that, little girl." She shrugged. "But then again it might make your friend here mad, and I need his cooperation." She turned her gaze back to Tim. "Yes, I'm sure you have no intention of aiding me in any way. Let me explain the situation. I was contracted out to kill Robin. As I was under the impression that I had done so at the time, I let Batman and your little girlfriend here, chase me out of Gotham. Unfortunately my employer didn't consider my proof convincing enough, and proceeded to renege on our deal." She paused, collecting her thoughts.

"So what?" Tim leaned back against the wall, feeling a heady rush of power since she'd said she needed his help…help he really had no intention of providing.

"So what? So, I seem to have lost what loyalty I had towards him at his dishonorable behavior."

"Like hiring an assassin is honorable?" She nodded her head in acknowledgement of his hit.

"I can see where you might be under such an impression. You will allow me to disagree." Batgirl snorted derisively, but otherwise held her peace. "My point is, you have proven to be a more formidable opponent than I had anticipated…my mistake. But when I saw you here in Istanbul…I have my resources…I recognized you as one of the targets I'd identified and correctly deduced that you were, in fact, the person whom I had been hired to kill." Batgirl stiffened, moving a bit towards Tim as if to shield him from an attack. "Oh, give it up." She waved vaguely at Batgirl. "I'm not going to kill him, you silly twit. As I said, he has proven himself a worthy opponent, and more honorable, I'm sure, than the man who was so desperate to see him dead. Therefore I'm going to make you a deal."

"I don't think…ow!" Batgirl broke off as Tim stepped discreetly on her toe. He wasn't sure why she was having so much trouble interpreting body language, but he wanted to hear this proposition before making their escape.

"Wise choice." There was laughter in her voice, and Tim glared at her.

"You want to get to the point?"

"Very well. I am owed a large sum of money. Now, it has occurred to me that delivering you to my former contact I may collect on this debt. On the other hand, he is more likely to kill me to get me out of the way than pay me. Therefore I'm going to allow you to live…"  
"Gracious of you." Tim muttered under his breath. The only indication that she'd heard was a slight lifting of her lips as she continued to speak.

"…and in turn you're going to do me a favor." Both Batgirl and Tim looked at her dubiously. "I am in the market for information... information about your particular corner of the world. In exchange for this information I will provide you with what information _I_ have concerning the man who, I assume, is _still_ trying to kill you." She raised her eyebrow and looked between the two of them. "Do we have a deal?"

* * *

"No." Batman turned from the monitor and adjusted his airspeed. 

"Br…Batman, you said you would let _them _handle it! Don't you think…"

"I said, _no._ This isn't open for discussion, Oracle." The redhead on the screen made a face at him.

"You're only going to prove her point…that you don't trust them, that you _are_ out to stop them. If you just give them a little more ti…"

"I will say it again. It has been five hours since I left Batgirl in Istanbul. Even given his ability to evade her, and taking into consideration that he may not have welcomed her with open arms, I still should have heard _something_ by now. Therefore either they're in trouble and need my…"  
"They don't always _need_ your interference, just because they're in a tight spot." He was silent for a moment but she didn't worry that she'd overstepped the boundaries…sometimes _someone_ had to with him. She continued ruthlessly. "They have open comms, they could easily call for backup if they needed it. I'm sure that…"

"In that case, they're deliberately avoiding me and I told her that…"

"Oh come _off _it, Bruce! They're more than capable on their own! The fact that you want them to report every little move, every sneeze, that they make is only going to reaffirm their suspicions that you're trying to hold them back! You've placed so many restrictions on them that they have no choice but to…"

"Enough. You'd use your time more wisely to be searching for clues on your end. Let me handle this."

"You're going to regret it." He clenched his lips in a grim line. "I mean it. Unless that's your goal, to drive them away, make them leave the 'family'…possibly stop being the heroes they are. If that's your goal, then I suppose you know what you're doing. But you won't be doing _them_, or even Gotham, any favors to end their careers." With that she snapped off the connection, leaving him in silence. He brooded for a moment, checking out some readouts, Barbara's angry words echoing in his mind. He knew she'd managed to refrain from bringing up history, but she'd been thinking about it.

Everyone assumed it had been his behavior that had driven Dick to leave Gotham, become Nightwing, and had put a strain on their relationship ever since. And they were right. But he didn't think that mean he'd been wrong. Dick had grown through his experiences as Nightwing. And while he hadn't exactly _planned _on him continuing to fight after firing him as Robin, he was now glad he had…he was proud of him. From that experience, as well as his violent encounter with Cassandra after firing _her,_ he felt sure that even if he _did_ try to end their careers as Batgirl and Robin, Tim and Cassandra would continue to fight on their own.

So why _was_ he pushing so hard to control them on this? a little voice prodded. He clenched his fist. He had been telling himself that he wanted to ensure their safety. But that wasn't entirely correct…they'd both been well trained, they could take care of themselves. In truth, Jack Drake's death had shaken him up more than he wanted to admit. It brought back memories of his own losses, and the deaths of the Graysons. There had been times that he himself had been pushed nearly to the breaking point. So how could he expect Tim, who was younger and not as experienced with death, not to come up against the same moral dilemma? He couldn't. And Cassandra…

He closed his eyes, bringing the plane to a hovering halt, and sighed. If anyone could keep Tim from crossing the line it would be Cassandra. Not only because of their deepening relationship, though he _had _noted this fact, but because she had crossed the line herself. She would recognize the signs if he was pushed too far. And her own feelings of guilt wouldn't allow her to let him cross that line either. Batman opened his eyes and punched in a command. He had things to see to in Gotham…they could handle the investigation on their own...and as Barbara had pointed out, they had their comms with them and could call for backup if it came to that.

The plane made a graceful arc as it turned around, heading back. Batman allowed the autopilot to navigate, leaving him free to do some digging on the onboard computer. There had to be something they were all missing. He could feel it…right beyond his fingertips. The first attack by Scarab had been…he noted the date. Hmm. There hadn't been any major incidents in Tim's life…except… he frowned.

Tim had had a bad encounter with a man named Johnny Warren a few months prior. The man had ended up with his hand blown off because he'd been stupid enough to try to fire his gun while it was encased with a special formula Robin had thrown at him. If that wasn't enough, he disappeared for a few weeks and returned with some kind of superpower that he'd used to nearly destroy Robin and Spoiler.

Batman, rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Tim had had a hard time of it for a few months…the second encounter had ended with Warren dead and Tim blaming himself. Though everyone had tried to convince Tim he may _not_ have actually killed Warren, the incident had led to Tim losing faith in himself and almost quitting being Robin. Then, of course, he'd quit anyway, when Jack Drake had discovered his secret life. The whole episode would have simply gone into the Batcomputer's files and been put at the back of Batman's mind except…

An insistent beeping pulled him from his reverie. He glanced up, noting the flashing light on the communication panel. He toggled the switch, irritated at the interruption.

"What?" He didn't bother to hide his annoyance.

"Batman, you need to…" it was Barbara again. He cut her off with a sigh, thinking she was trying to lecture him again. He bit back a growl of impatience…didn't she think he could…he stopped, noting her face. It was drawn, tight.

"What is it?" This time he couldn't keep the worry, rather than the irritation, out of his growl.

"You better get back here…there's been a… an accident."

* * *

To be continued… 


	16. Chapter 16

"What's wrong?" Tim stopped his pacing and gave Batgirl a _look_. She might have blushed under her cowl, but she didn't care too much, because he couldn't tell. She knew it had probably been a stupid question, but it had served to break the silence. Tim ran his hand through his hair.

"You mean other than the fact that this Scarab lady knows my secret identity, that we're halfway around the world from any backup, that my dad was killed just under a week ago, and we're locked up in a dungeon awaiting an assassin' whim?" She cocked her head to the side, then nodded. He gave a little half-laugh, half-sigh. "You do that too well."

"Sorry." He shrugged.

"Nah, it's a good thing." He gave her a half grin, then resumed pacing. "I guess the thing is…I can't make the connection." Batgirl remained silent, not wanting to compound her earlier stupid question with "huh?". Tim paused at the window…his classification of the room as a dungeon had been a _tad_ overdramatic. It was, in fact, simply another office, a smaller one, devoid of any furniture or tools they could use to escape. Of course, Batgirl had rather…_eloquently_ objected to the removal of her utility belt, so the bare room and locked door were rather pointless should they choose to escape.

"Did you notice the guys who attacked us in that alley?"

"Kinda hard to miss them." He chuckled, knowing he shouldn't be surprised at her wit, but feeling so anyway.

"Yeah. But one of them had this ring…a big one, expensive. Like the kind of ring that would be used in a corny movie to be the sign of some secret society or something."

"So?"

"That's just it. It's so dumb. And obvious and right out of a bad movie and…and I can't shake the feeling that it _is_ important. Somehow."

"Maybe…too obvious, to throw you off?" He blinked, trying to decipher what it was she'd said.

"Well…it _could_ have been just a ring, first of all, and meant nothing. Or, it could have really been important, in which case we're in trouble, as I haven't a _clue_ what it meant. _Or_ it could have been something _really_ twisted, and put there just to distract me and make me _think_ it's important when it's not and have me spend hours debating over whether it was too obvious to be a real clue or not and throw me off the trail of…whomever it is I'm tracking." Batgirl giggled as he made a funny face at the end of this circuitous dissertation.

"You let me know when you figure it out, ok?"

"Funny."

"Well…I think all those other issues you mentioned might be a _little_ more important now." He sighed.

"I know, I know. But what if this is all tied into that somehow? I mean…" he broke off at a noise from the hall. Both of them moved instinctively to flank the door, preparing themselves for whatever Scarab had decided to send for them. The door clicked open and Scarab herself strode in, raising an eyebrow at their defensive positioning.

"For me? I'm flattered. Well? Have you come to a decision?" Tim relaxed and shot the woman a glare.

"Somehow being locked up doesn't set the best stage for decision making." She shrugged.

"You could have gotten out…my men didn't even take the girl's weapons. Locked up? Don't you think you're being a bit melodramatic? I was simply trying to give you a nice quiet spot to contemplate my offer." Tim shot her a disbelieving look, but Batgirl stepped forward, putting a hand on his shoulder. At his inquiring look, she tilted her head, indicating she wanted to speak with him away from Scarab. He glanced back at the assassin, who graciously inclined her head. They moved to the side of the room, heads bent low together.

"She is lying."

"No kidding. I could have told you …"

"No. I mean…she has the information we want. But…I don't know. She knows I am not Stephanie…even with the mask…but she used it to goad you."

"If I remember right, _you_ were the one who reacted." She shrugged.

"To distract her."

"Uh_-huh­._ Sure. Whatever. So what's the problem? She's an assassin…you didn't think I was about to trust her, did you?" She didn't answer for a second, and he gave her a dirty look, assuming she _had_ thought him that dim-witted.

"No, I didn't. I just…" she glanced back at Scarab, who was looking out the window, apparently unconcerned. "I don't trust her…and I don't…don't like assassins." She mumbled the last, and Tim gave her a commiserating look. He knew how much guilt she carried over her past, and the fact that her father was an assassin. It made sense she wouldn't be comfortable dealing with one now…didn't it?

"But…you've dealt with them before…Cain…and others. Why is this any different?"

"She is hiding something!"

"So what? We're the 'good guys' and she's a 'bad guy'…remember? It makes sense that…"

"NO!" she shot a glance at Scarab to determine if her outburst had caught the woman's attention. As it apparently hadn't, she continued in a softer tone, "No. This isn't that. It…she _did _lose out on her money, and she wants revenge, but…" she glanced away for a moment, lost in thought. "I…I _think_ she wants revenge on you…too. She feels…unprofessional? That she didn't finish the job…that maybe he was right not to pay her. I think she wants to trap us." He nodded.

"That makes a lot of sense…more sense than her really wanting information about Gotham…I mean, she knows we won't give her any secrets, or research any of her targets or anything…so more likely she's using that as an excuse to send us into a trap by giving us the guy's name."

"Right." She waited, thinking he was going to explain his plan…for she could tell he had one…but he simply turned away and walked back towards Scarab. She turned at his approach and he gave her a solemn look.

"We have a deal."

* * *

"She panicked…it's not that big a deal." Nightwing grumbled as Alfred poked and prodded at a particularly nasty gash on his leg. "I mean…it's no worse than…um…"

"I do believe what you're trying to say is, even had you been moments away from death itself, you would have preferred Miss Barbara to refrain from calling Batman and letting him know?" Nightwing scowled.

"I didn't say that. And I _wasn't_ 'moments away from death'. It's just…"

"What happened?" Two heads turned towards the entrance to the infirmary. Batman was at his most menacing, half in the shadows and growling out his questions without any warning.

"Nice to see you to…ow!"

"You should have kept still." Batman sighed, realizing neither of them were about to answer his question at this rate, and moved into the room, pulling back his cowl.

"Well?" Nightwing sighed.

"It wasn't all that big a…ow! Ok…ok! I get the point." He glared at Alfred, who continued cleaning the wound without a word. "Anyways, it was just…stupid." He glanced away, still angry with himself.

"Blockbuster?" Nightwing didn't answer, which was really all the answer anyone needed. "You should have called for…"

"I don't _need_ backup!" he pushed himself up, trying to get off the table, but Alfred raised a needle filled with anesthetic menacingly and he leaned back. "I can handle this on my own!" Bruce raised an eyebrow at the deep cuts on his arms and leg, causing him to flush. "I don't…"

"I've heard that before." Nightwing opened his mouth to protest, but Bruce held up a hand to silence him. "And I have heard every argument you may want to put forth…" he hesitated. "I should, because I've used them all myself." Nightwing had no response to that, instead, he closed his mouth with a snap. There was really no argument for that…but to hear him admit it was, to say the least, surprising.

"Ahem." They both looked at Alfred. "If I may …"

"Can we stop you?" Alfred ignored this quip, though he may have jabbed a little harder than necessary at a particularly bloody patch of skin.

"…I have yet to have observed an incident where stubbornness and exclusion have done anything but bring disaster upon this family. I would even venture so far as to hypothesize an ending to this particular case. This Blockbuster fellow has been after Nightwing for months, with each encounter becoming more brutal and with more damage to Master Dick and his property." He leveled a stern glare at the young man. "Should you continue to insist you can 'handle this on your own', was it? that you would end up in one of three situations. Either in a similar condition to Master Bruce after his infamous encounter with Bane, lying under six feet of cold dirt, or, possibly, in jail yourself." Bruce and Nightwing stared at him incredulously.

"In jail? What are you _talking _about?" Nightwing leveled himself up again, a cross look on his face, but Bruce grew thoughtful and then nodded.

"Consider this scenario…Blockbuster is hunting you, stalking you. You're mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted. He's beaten you…and then he breaks you. To save yourself…to end the torment…"

"What! I would never…I…"

"I don't think you would either…but suppose someone _else _did. You could take the blame… just think, only recently Blockbuster disappeared for a month and rumors started flying that you'd killed him. Alfred has a point." Nightwing glared at him, then jumped up from the exam table. Alfred started to protest, but Nightwing whirled on them both.

"I don't have to sit here and take this! This has nothing to do with _anything_! Tim's the one you should be helping…he's the one who needs it! He's lost his father! And may lose his…well, his stepmother anyway, if we don't find something to clear her!"

"They'd have to find something to incriminate her, first" Bruce stated, but Nightwing wasn't listening.

"I can take care of my own city! Listen, I know you wanted to send Robin over to Blüdhaven for awhile, before he ran off, anyway, and I think you had a good point wanting a change of scenery for the kid. But I know you were also trying to 'help' me, and I didn't ask for your help! I…" he glanced at Alfred, "I know you have some good points, that I could end up in trouble, but I really think I can handle it. I don't need your help as much as Tim does. So just…leave me alone!" And with that mature closing statement, he hobbled out of the room. Alfred glared at Bruce.

"What?"

"Hmph." Alfred sniffed and also turned. Bruce wisely decided trying to defend himself, to say it wasn't his fault, wouldn't go over well. Instead he sat down at the computer and opened the line to Oracle.

"Well?"

"He's all right. But…keep an eye on him. Don't let him _know_ you're keeping an eye on him, but…"

"Hey, I think I know how to do covert, ok? What's going on?" Bruce glowered at her.

"Nothing is…"

"Bruce, you don't ask for surveillance on one of your own partners and expect me to believe nothing was going on. You have your own network that's sophisticated enough for anything of even relatively small importance. What do you need _me_ for?" He sighed.

"He's…upset. I know…he probably gets it from me…that's Alfred's opinion anyway. But he's being stubborn, won't accept any help, and is going to get himself killed. If I try to interfere it will just push him farther away." Barbara nodded solemnly. And just when they had started getting along better, too. She was also surprised to hear Bruce admit that such stubbornness as he often displayed was _not_ an asset. She narrowed her eyes.

"What _else_ is going on?"

"What do you mean?" She simply stared at him. "Look, nothing is going on…I just have a feeling." He tapped his fingers on the desk. "I need you to get me any and all information on one Johnny Warren." She blinked.

"That guy Tim…"

"He _didn't_ kill him"

"I wasn't going to say that!" she protested. "I was just…um…"

"Right. Anyways, find out whatever you can…history, contacts, friends, enemies. And the coroner's report…we never did get that…" something was nagging at him, but he couldn't place his finger on it.

"Fine. Anything else?" He shook his head. What was it about the coroner's report… "All right. Later." He nodded distractedly as the screen winked off. His gaze drifted across the room, landing on an empty shelf. Empty…he straightened. That was it! And that meant…

"Alfred!"

"Sir?"

"Batgirl turned off her communicator. If she contacts you here, she or Tim, let me know. And tell them to call me." He pulled up his cowl, and strode purposefully towards the jet.

"Certainly. Might I know where it is you're going?"

"Hopefully to find them before it's too late."

"Sir?"

"They're walking right into a trap."

* * *

To be continued… 


	17. Chapter 17

"Wait…wait…will you _wait_ _up_!" Tim might have slowed down a tiny bit, but not nearly enough to let her catch up…at least not without looking desperate. Then again, who cared about looking desperate? Stopping, she withdrew a line with a batarang attached, twirled it almost idly, then let it fly.

"Wha…hey!" The line tangled around his feet, tripping him up and knocking him to the ground. Batgirl sauntered over as he sat trying to untangle himself.

"I _said_ wait." He glared at her, but his heart wasn't in it. After Scarab had given him the required information, Tim had taken off like…like… well, she wasn't sure what it had been like. All she knew is that _something_ had upset him. She crouched down beside him, pulling the cords off with ease…something he _should _have been able to do himself, had he not been in such turmoil. "You ok?"

"Fine." He shrugged. She frowned. "What?" He fiddled with the batarang, uncomfortable with her perusal.

"What happened?" He pointedly avoided her eyes.

"I don't know what you're…ow!" She sat back on her heels, frowning behind her mask. This wasn't going exactly as she'd predicted. "Geez, Ca…um. Batgirl. Give me a break already."

"_You_ give _me_ a break. What happened?" He sighed. Scarab had decided that since Tim had been the original target that somehow he was the only one allowed access to the information she claimed to possess. Batgirl had been told to leave, which started a brawl and ended with three of Scarab's men unconscious before Tim had suggested that it may be a good idea to play along. That hadn't gone over well either, but she'd left. And Scarab had told Tim _something_ that had upset him.

"So?' He sighed.

"It wasn't anything. Really. I've never even heard of the guy she said hired her." Batgirl cocked her head to the side.

"Why would he want you dead then?" Tim shrugged.

"I don't know. I… I think what bothered me was his name…Johnny Warlock."

"Like a witch?" She shook her head in bemusement as he laughed.

"Maybe. Anyway, Johnny's a common enough name, and I've never heard of this Warlock guy, but for some reason it made me think of this guy I…um…ran into a few months ago. Before the gang wars."

"Maybe he changed his name." He gave a bitter laugh.

"I doubt it. He…um….he died." Batgirl stiffened, then grabbed his arm, dragging him into the shadows of an alley. "What the…"

"Wait." She glanced around, then pulled down her cowl.

"Um…what are you…"

"Shh!" She grabbed his shoulders and stared into his eyes, searching for…something. He leaned back, uncomfortable with her sudden strange behavior.

"But…" She shook her head and he shut up.

"You…you…" she blinked and lowered her voice to a whisper. "You _killed_ him?" His eyes widened, then he looked away. He had seen the guilty flash of hope in her eyes, and he almost felt bad for letting her down…she so desperately needed, or felt she needed, atonement for her "crime" as a child. Or at least some sign that she wasn't alone…that she _could_ be accepted in this life with such a stain on her background. He sighed.

"No…" She tried to turn away, but he caught her arm. "Wait. I _thought_ I did…I don't know. I probably could have, but everyone insisted that his…I don't know…he had powers he hadn't had before…he was using them and…"

"What kind of powers?" he shot her a dirty look for interrupting, but sighed.

"I don't know. Telekinesis…moving things with his mind" he added at her blank look. "And he did some kind of electric shock thing…but wherever he got these powers, they were…it was like something was sucking him dry. So I guess the theory is that his powers killed him…but for the longest time I thought I was the one…that it was my fault... And I lost faith in myself. I almost quit being Robin." his voice caught and he cleared it, continuing hastily, "but it doesn't matter, because he's dead. The name just seemed similar and made me remember all that."

"You think it's a trick?" He shrugged.

"I don't know. All she asked for in return was some information about Blockbuster…information I didn't even…"

"Blockbuster? Isn't he the one who…"

"Yeah." His grim face showed that he'd made the connection too. "But I couldn't get anything out of _her_ about what her intentions were." He made a face. "That's probably why she wanted you out of the room." She laughed..

"Scarab wouldn't know about…"

"She could. Think about it…you've fought Shiva, were raised by Cain…I'd say there's a good chance word gets around." She grimaced, but conceded the point.

"So what did you tell her?"

"Nothing. That's the thing." He kicked the wall idly. "I didn't have the information she wanted…that's why I'm inclined to think it's all a trick…a trap of some kind. But I can't figure what the connection is. Or what she's getting out of it. I suppose she could have been hired by a rival of Blockbuster's…to get rid of him…" He hesitated.

"No." She crossed her arms in front of her chest, glaring at him.

"What? I didn't…"

"_No_." He sighed.

"I really _really_ wasn't thinking that, Cass. Really. Well…maybe a little. I mean Blockbuster's done so many horrible things to…"

"You would regret it." She frowned. "_He_ would regret it."

"Who? Blockbus…"

"No. Nightwing. He wouldn't want us to stand by. _He_ wouldn't stand by and let someone kill someone else…even if that meant saving Blockbuster who…"

"Alright! Alright! I get it! Like I said…I wasn't _really_ considering it…it was just an uncontrolled thought. Nothing more." He rolled his eyes at her disbelieving look. "Come _on!_ You know I wouldn't….Cass!" her lip had twitched giving her away. She burst out laughing and after a second, Tim had to give in and chuckle along with her.

"Well…it _is_ tempting." She said, sobering. He shook his head.

"No. You were right." He sighed. "Which means we have to go back."

"Um…to Gotham?"

"Yes. Where else is back?" she shrugged.

"Scarab's hideout?" he could tell she was frustrated that the assassin had gotten away…especially without getting a chance to fight with her.

"No. She'll be long gone. And if she's not, she'd be waiting for us. No." he sighed. "Back to Gotham. I'm not looking forward to the explanations I'm going to be asked to give." Cass pulled her cowl back on silently reflecting that she wasn't looking forward to the explanations _she_ was going to be asked to give. She'd promised to keep Batman filled in…but instead had run off with Tim and cut off communications.

"Um. How are you planning on getting back?"

"Same way I got here. On a plane." He shot her a funny look, then laughed as he realized what she was after. "You got any civilian clothes with you?" She shook her head. "Right. So…first we…uh…_I_ go shopping, _then_ we fly back. It might be a _little _conspicuous traveling with Batgirl." She nodded, and followed him as he headed purposefully towards some unknown destination. "You'll have to tell me what you need…I've got a credit card…but you'll have to stay hidden." She considered smacking him on the back of the head for that remark, but refrained, recognizing that he wasn't thinking her stupid…he just needed to fill in all the details. They reached a lighted street, where some shops still stood open, signs flashing in the night.

"Well?" She rolled her eyes and started to answer when something caught her eye.

"You sure you want to go back to Gotham right now?"

"Uh…no?" he looked around trying to see what had drawn her attention. "What? What is it?"

"That man." He looked over but didn't recognize him.

"So?"

"He's a Gotham mobster." Tim looked again, but still didn't recognize anyone.

"You sure?" after all, _he_ was the detective here and…immediately he felt guilty for his petty thought. She was an intelligent, capable young woman and if she couldn't read very fast or…well, that didn't mean she couldn't recognize someone she'd fought with…heck, with her abilities she could probably see through disguises to the person beneath.

"Yes. He's…far from home, no?" He blinked.

"Yeeeah." He drew the word out, then let out a breath. "You think he's involved in this whole mess?"

"He…I don't know. If this man Johnny Witch…"

"Warlock." She continued as if he hadn't spoken.

"…really _doesn't_ know who you are, then maybe not. But if he _does_….you go out there. I'll see if he notices you." Tim shrugged and headed to the store as planned. But the man didn't notice him and after buying some clothes he hoped would fit Cass, Tim left the store and returned to the shadows where she waited.

"Here." She stuffed the clothes in one of her belt's compartments without a word. "Well?"

"He didn't recognize you." Tim relaxed, but she continued, "but I think he's connected."

"_Why_?" he couldn't keep the exasperation out of his voice and she glared through her mask at him. She held up a tiny device and he recognized a receiver for a bat-bugging chip. "You bugged him?"

"While you were in the store. He was talking to someone on the phone." She paused, feeling the need for dramatics…probably to get back at Tim for his disbelief when she'd said the man was connected to their search. "He mentioned the name Warlock."

* * *

To be continued… 


	18. Chapter 18

"Any luck?"

"No. You want to fill us in on this sudden need for help finding two teenagers?" Batman wondered, not for the first time that night, why he'd ever thought a team of heroes could possibly be a good idea. They were all too often inclined to interfere…ask questions…not to mention go off on their own half-cocked ideas without so much as a by-your-…

"Um…boss? Hel-loo?"

"Nothing. I thought possibly one of them may have contacted you."

"I haven't heard anything." A muted mumbling confirmed his suspicion that Dick was with her. "Neither of us have. Really, Br…Batman. Should we be worried? Send out a search party?" She was mostly joking, but he heard the underlying tension and sighed.

"I'm sure they're fine." He wasn't about to add that since Tim had been mad at him to begin with, and who ever knew how Cassandra would look at things, they were most likely avoiding all contact with him like the plague. He shouldn't be worrying Babs and Dick.

"You don't expect me to buy that! You've called three times in the past six hours to see if either of them had called or if I'd heard anything! I mean it, Bruce…" he winced at her use of his name over the air.

"Oracle…"

"Oh, so what? It's a secure line!"

"For all we know."

"Whatever. You _never _ask for help! And yet you think we shouldn't think something's going on when you suddenly need help tracking down Batgirl and Robin? What, don't you have tracers hidden in their uniforms or something?" This last was dripping with sarcasm. He didn't answer…though the thought _had _occurred to him many times. He'd even carried through with the idea…only briefly and with limited success.

"No. And I _don't_ need help. I just thought they may have contacted you."

"Uh-_huuuh_. Right." Deciding silence was the better part of valor, he cut the connection. Let them think what they would. He _didn't_ need help. But he had a feeling Tim and Cass _did_. And since they obviously didn't trust _him_ enough to ask for it…he ignored the tiny voice that sounded suspiciously like Alfred pointing out that he himself rarely asked for help. He pulled up the report from the coroner's that Oracle had obtained for him. As he'd thought, Warren's body had disappeared shortly after being admitted to the morgue. He recalled a report to that effect, short and unconcerned, in the news. But he had been distracted at the time keeping Tim's mind off the incident, and then Tim's father had found out and…well the rest was history. Now as he confirmed his belief, his feeling of unease grew. After all, this man had had meta-powers of some kind, and who knew what they entailed. It wasn't unheard of for a meta to be thought dead and end up alive, well, and wreaking havoc months later. An insistent beeping caught his attention, and he pressed the button to receive a message.

"Batman, thought you might want to know, and pass it along, the assassin Scarab is possibly looking to go after Blockbuster. Batgirl and I are following some leads on our own case…Robin out." He gave the console a death-glare as if that would change the message, but he supposed he couldn't blame the boy for wanting to follow his father's murderer's trail on his own. He shook his head, then stopped the plane. At least he knew they were all right now…and he really shouldn't have doubted them in the first place. They could take care of themselves. For now…he had a city to protect.

* * *

"But why…" 

"Because!" Tim forced himself to mentally count to ten to keep from snapping worse at Cassandra as they boarded the plane. They had decided to tail the mobster to see if he could lead them to any new source of information. Tim had thought everything settled but as they had waited in the airport, keeping a covert eye on their target, Cass had started asking questions. Most of them legitimate, but starting to get on his nerves.

She had wanted to know what his plan was after following this man. What he planned to do when they found this Johnny Warlock person. Did he think it was fair to leave again without warning anyone of the possible entrance of Scarab onto the scene again? That one had caused him to send a message…no _way_ was he going to contact them in person and get told to go back to Gotham right away…to Batman warning of Scarab's interest in Blockbuster.

Then, after he'd done _that_, she'd wanted to know if he had any _more_ thoughts on the case, and then she'd suddenly thrown in a few random questions…one was about planes, he vaguely recalled, and then she'd ask how the sun worked and why the sky was blue and…and then he'd snapped. Well, _really_! Who could blame him, really? If she was so curious she should go ask Babs.

He realized he'd been brooding for a good ten minutes and snuck a glance at her. She seemed to be in perfect contentment, flopped back in her seat flipping idly through one of the magazines provided in the airplane's seats. Tim had made sure they had first class tickets, both for their own comfort and to be able to watch everyone get on and off the plane, keeping the mobster in their sight all the while. An added bonus turned up as the man ended up squashed between the window and a large woman in coach. Apparently his employer wasn't very generous.

"Hey, who did you say this guy was?" Cass peeked over her magazine, blinked silently, and shrugged, returning to her perusal. Tim flushed, half in anger, half in embarrassment. Oh-kaay. She obviously _wasn't_ completely over his brief spurt of irritation at her earlier. He shouldn't have taken his frustration out on her, but…there wasn't anyone else around at the moment!

"Listen, Cass. I'm sorry, ok? I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just…tense, you know?" The magazine didn't move and he rolled his eyes. "Come _on_! I said I was sor…"

"But not really."

"_What_?" He frowned at her, confused. He wondered vaguely when he would learn to stop putting his foot in his mouth…especially around women. Cassandra dropped the magazine and turned to face him.

"You are sorry you made me mad. You feel guilty. But you still think my questions were stupid and…" Tim's eyes lit with understanding.

"I wasn't thinking _you_ were stupid. I just thought your questions were, perhaps….ill-timed." She shook her head at him pityingly. "What? I…"

"Doesn't matter." She waved her hand as if to banish the unpleasantness as she would shoo away a fly.

"But…" she sighed, dropping her head to her hands.

"Leave it alone. I know…I _know._ You're upset, you're not yourself, you didn't mean it. Ok. All right." Tim blinked, feeling at once amused and annoyed.

"Cass, I don't…"

"I know." She looked up and smiled, seemingly putting it behind her. Tim opened his mouth again to argue, then snapped it closed. Why argue if she was willing to drop it? He snuck a glance at her only to catch her watching him warily.

"What?"

"I'm sorry?" She made it a question and he had to laugh.

"Nah, you were right. I was taking it all out on you, and you're just trying to help." She gave him a big grin, then, looked down.

"Well…it was maybe my fault too. I knew I was annoying you…I didn't stop." He blinked at her blankly.

"Um…why?" She shrugged.

"You are all…you need a fight." He rolled his eyes.

"Uh, Earth to Cass…not with _you_! And not a verbal one, anyway." He narrowed his eyes accusingly. "Besides, you acted like I hurt your feelings!" She shrugged.

"Well…I hadn't expected you to think I…"

"I _don't_! I don't think you're stupid! For goodness' sake, how many times do I have to…"

"No, I know now…but my questions were dumb and…and I really didn't know the answers, so I guess…" Tim sighed and slumped back in his seat.

"What a pair we are." She grinned and he smiled back. "So…want to tell me who that guy is?"

"Hmm? Oh. Yeah. He works for Aquista." Tim started.

"_What_?" She looked at him confused.

"What?"

"I thought Aquista quit after…" He broke off and she cocked her head to the side questioningly. He cleared his throat. "His daughter went to my school…she…she died in the gang war." Cass nodded silently, understanding more than had been said. Tim told himself it didn't matter…he hadn't really _liked_ her, not like that. But she had been a friend and her death followed so quickly by Stephanie's had shaken him up for quite a while.

"And you say he quit after she died?" He nodded, grateful that she was keeping the conversation going, keeping him from becoming too mired in the past.

"I thought he had. Have you heard differently?" She shook her head.

"No. But I know our guy was working for him before…maybe he's working for this Warlock guy and Aquista really did quit." But she didn't sound convinced. Tim didn't _feel_ convinced either…though he couldn't say why. He couldn't make any connection between himself and Aquista, or, again, this Johnny Warlock or…he stiffened, a chill running down his spine.

"What?" She poked his shoulder when he didn't answer. "What did you think of?"

"I don't…I don't know. It's just…for some reason Johnny Warren keeps popping into my mind."

"He's dead."

"I _know_ that!" he shot her an exasperated look. "But…he was working for Aquista the first time I ran into him. And now Aquista is somehow connected to Johnny Warlock, and…and I don't know how it all fits together, but…it _has_ to!" She nodded.

"So what now?" Tim chanced a peek back at their quarry. He didn't seem to realize he was being hunted, simply trying to sleep in the uncomfortable position he was in. Tim drew his head back in.

"When we land, we're going to have a little conversation with our friend back there. And we're going to get some answers."

* * *

To be continued… 


	19. Chapter 19

"Scarab. Right. Gotcha." Batman had a nearly overwhelming urge to shake some sense into the younger man, but managed to control himself, instead leveling his best "bat-glare" at Nightwing who was sprawled in a chair in the cave as if he hadn't a care in the world. The glare, predictably, had no effect.

"Perhaps you should look into it." Batman growled pointedly. Nightwing shrugged.

"Why? Seems you're well-enough informed for the both of us. Besides, what with Tarantula on one side and Scarab on the other, Blüdhaven sounds like it's getting a serious pest-problem. Maybe I should move back here." It was said lightly, but Batman heard the fatigue underneath. Even in jest, Nightwing wouldn't talk about giving up unless he was seriously worn down. Batman wasn't sure what had brought Dick to the cave this evening…it wasn't as if they were on the best of terms at the moment. And, whether he wanted to admit it or not, Blüdhaven had become _his_ city…he wouldn't just ignore the fact that it still needed a protector.

"In fact, since Tim was the one who discovered it, maybe _he_ should look into it." Batman put down the specimen he had been examining with an audible _thunk_ and turned.

"What is your problem?" Nightwing blinked. Direct confrontation…well, direct _verbal_ confrontation…wasn't usually Batman's style.

"Uh…"

"In case you missed the point, you have an assassin heading towards your city, Barbara is searching for any evidence we can use to protect Mrs. Drake, Tim and Cassandra are half-way across the world searching for a killer…Tim's _father's _killer… and Scarecrow and Riddler just broke out of Arkham. Yet you're sitting here with a chip on your shoulder as if the whole world's against _you_ personally. So either tell me what the problem is or get back to work." He raised an eyebrow in challenge and for a moment he thought perhaps Nightwing _would_ simply leave and return to Blüdhaven. He knew it was harsh, after all Nightwing's leg would hardly have healed yet…but there were other things he could be doing…non-physical things. The younger man, sighed and dropped his feet down to the floor, assuming a more serious expression.

"Sorry, Bruce. I'm just…I'm tired. Blüdhaven seems less and less…I dunno…and Blockbuster…well anyway, sorry to bring my troubles here. Listen, I have some contacts…I'll see what I can dig up on this Scarab person. I assume you can handle Scarecrow and Riddler on your own?" It was said with a cheeky smile, reminiscent of so many of their old adventures. Batman nodded tersely. Now was not the time for reminiscing. "Ok, then. I…uh…guess I'll be going then." And he did. Batman stood in the silence for a moment, then turned back to his investigations.

* * *

The fact that it was daylight might deter the average night-dwelling crimefighter…but neither Tim nor Cassandra considered themselves by any means normal. Having used the flight to plan how to follow their quarry unobserved in a busy city, they departed the plane in Cairo of all places without any qualms. Now they trailed their suspect…Tim wished they had an actual _name_ to call him, but Cass hadn't been interested in introductions when she'd bust up a mob meeting…disguised as a young couple taking in the sights. They could stroll, point out items of interest to each other...hold hands.

Cassandra hadn't been entirely sure about the disguise…their real relationship was too shaky to stand up to the pressure, she thought…but Tim had said it would be the best way to avoid unwanted attention. After all, should their target turn around he would have no reason to suspect a young couple absorbed in each other. Cass still felt dubious…yes, that wouldn't be suspicious…but neither would a pair of regular tourists. Why add in the extra stress?

"Look at that!" Tim pointed to something…she wasn't sure what. After all, she was more interested in the job than in the scenery. Beside her she felt him sigh. "You're not in character, Cass." She shrugged. He took her hand and pulled her to a shop front, pretending to examine the contents.

"I don't understand why we have to…"

"This is why." He pulled her closer and whispered in her ear. "How else can we talk in this crowd without being overheard?" She shivered a bit at his touch, feeling a strong sense of disappointment when he moved away. Yet as far as she could tell he wasn't experiencing any such feelings.

They rounded a corner and Cass snuck a glance at their suspect. He was staring out over the Nile, seemingly in idle curiosity. Tim slid back towards the shadows, wanting to stay unobtrusive. But Cass had noticed something…

"He's going to turn around!" Tim acted without thought…literally. Without any warning Cass found herself wrapped in his arms, being thoroughly kissed. She stiffened, sensing that Tim was just trying to keep their quarry from noticing them, though part of her wished it wasn't so. After a second she relaxed into it…it was just a kiss, after all. In fact she'd used the same trick herself…long ago. Trying to deny her strange feelings for the metahuman terrorist who called himself "Black Wind", she'd kissed Superboy on the balcony of a cruise ship when Tai'Darshan had looked back at her. She'd thought briefly that she might have feelings for Superboy, but she'd been wrong. The fact that he was half scared to death of her probably didn't help things.

Both that kiss and this had been meant as distractions, so she couldn't help comparing the two…and they were _quite_ different. In fact, she thought that perhaps…

Tim broke away, his face flushed and his eyes rather out of focus. He blinked a couple of times and shook his head as if to clear it. Cass was happy to see that at least _now_ he was feeling _something_.

"Uh…" He didn't seem to be able to come up with a coherent sentence. Then again, she wasn't thinking to clearly herself. Had that meant something? She cleared her throat and he gave a kind of nervous laugh. She had a sudden, irritated thought that _he_ had had more experience with this kind of thing that _she_ had…what was _he_ so nervous for? Perversely she decided to change the subject.

"Where did he go?" She realized they were still both intent on the other person, as if trying to read how much of the kiss had been more and how much simply distraction.

"Um…he, uh…" Tim finally broke away from her gaze and glanced around. "There!" There was obvious relief in his voice…they hadn't lost him. He was sitting at a table at an outdoor café, and he was…

"Waiting for someone." Tim glanced at her.

"You sure?" She nodded. Maybe this was it! Could the mystery truly be solved that easily? She moved forward but Tim grabbed her arm.

"Wait!"

"What? We go eat there too. We can hear and see who he meets." Tim nodded, but he was distracted…unfocused. She followed his gaze to the man they'd been following but nothing had changed. "What?" He shook himself slightly.

"That man… the one we're following. He was one of Scarab's men…in the alley." The ones who'd attacked them. She looked again, dubiously.

"I don't think so." He didn't _move_ right. She started to say so but Tim interrupted.

"Yes he is! I recognize his ring." She glanced over once more and frowned.

"But…he doesn't move right."  
"Huh?" Which he realized was a stupid question before it had even come out. Of course she would recognize people based on their body movements. But if he _wasn't_ the man from the alley… "Are you _sure_?" She sighed.

"No. There were…a lot of them. And I was…distracted." She considered the man for a second. "Possibly I wouldn't have noticed anyway…I wasn't thinking of a connection to Gotham mobsters at the time." This last was said dryly and Tim had to choke back a laugh.

"Well…this might complicate things. If he _was _one of them he'll be more likely to recognize…"

"But he _didn't!_" She was triumphant, but he shook his head.

"He might not have gotten a good look at me in the dark alley…_or_ even in that shopping center…it wasn't _extremely_ well lit and he may simply not have noticed me…expected me to show up there." He stopped, considering. "He even could have thought Scarab was going to kill us and wouldn't even expect us to be _alive_." She nodded, trying to bite back her frustration that once again Tim had proved smarter than her. A little voice insisted he wasn't _smarter_…just more experienced in thinking of things like that…but it was still annoying that she couldn't seem to help him with anything.

"Then what's the plan _now_?" He thought for a moment.

"We'll need to stay out of sight until night falls…and then I think our friend over there will have a nice long _discussion_ with Batgirl." She grinned...now _this_ was something she could handle.

* * *

"What progress?"

"Well…the good news is the coroner noticed the same marks we did, though he didn't know the significance. So Mrs. Drake may already be off the hook. The police have started to shift their investigation to perhaps a 'random housebreaker'… the idea being that a woman of Dana Drake's size wouldn't have been able to overpower Jack enough to leave fingerprints. The bad news is, Cain _still_ has an airtight alibi and none of my informants have any idea who could possibly have called out a hit on Robin."

She paused…Cassandra wouldn't be happy about that. She had taken Cain's involvement pretty hard…feeling the blame herself. Then again, one more murder on Cain's record wouldn't do much, unless it brought his ability to escape to attention. She cleared her throat. "At least Robin's identity seems to be safe, for now." She broke off and looked up at the screen.

"Hm." Batman was simply staring into space. Barbara was tempted to say something outrageous, just to see if he was paying attention…but then, he always _was_.

"Oh. And all I could find on that other case…the coroner's report on Warren…was that there _was_ no report. The body, or what was left of it, disappeared. Apparently no one thought to investigate this…" she typed in some commands, pulling up a file. "Seems that they had a real creep working as a janitor there…he was fired that day and the assumption was he took the body." She looked back at the screen with a hint of morbid humor. "Apparently he had a history of taking bits and pieces of the corpses…he was a member of one of those weird cults or something…trying to bring people back to life or bring some demon from another dimension, or…well…something." Batman finally spared her a glance, then shook his head.

"No."

"'No?' '_No'_ What 'no'? It's all right there in…"

"No one stole Warren's body."

"Oh? So now dead bodies are getting up and walking themselves away?" She flashed him a cheeky grin, but sobered quickly. They both knew their own share of stories about people who'd risen from the dead…many of them colleagues.

"I should have seen it." It was said without heat, as if he'd already accepted this failure, though she knew he hadn't. "He had some kind of power. He practically fell apart when Tim attacked him. Even the bystanders recognized there was something wrong with the situation. I should have realized then…should have followed it up, even just to prove to Tim he hadn't killed the man. But I was…preoccupied."

"Sounds like you've given this a lot of thought." She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "If you already knew all this why did you send me on a wild goose…"

"I didn't. I didn't remember that his body went missing until after we spoke. At that point my main concern was to make sure Tim and Cassandra hadn't fallen into his trap already, and now…"

"Wait. Wait. Wait. You mean to say _this_ is who's behind it all? Some two-bit mobster who picked up some superpowers and…"

"It's our most likely suspect. I don't know if you remember, but S…Stephanie was pretty badly wounded after her encounter with Warren. Tim told me part of why he lost control was because he was torturing her and telling him that he was going to do the same to everyone Tim loved. Sounds like a pretty good motive to put out a hit on Robin to me." She nodded, somewhat disgruntled that he hadn't seen fit to share any of this with anyone else.

"So why are we not rallying to go get this guy? You freaked out about Tim and Cass and now all the sudden you're sitting alone in the cave! I mean…"

"Tim has to do this himself."

"But what if he can't! What if…"

"That's what Cassandra is for." His tone brooked no further argument and he cut the connection. But Babs wasn't one to be so easily thwarted and she opened a channel.

"I need a favor…"

* * *

To be continued… 


	20. Chapter 20

The fact that dark alleyways made good hiding places and therefore were the logical choice for assaulting suspects seemed to have escaped Tim at the moment. Batgirl glared unsuccessfully at the back of his head as he practically paraded himself in the flashy lights of a local nightclub. She _also_ noted with irritation that he was succeeding in his aim…though not, perhaps, completely.

He had decided…not asking _her_ opinion, she'd noticed…that they should try one more time to determine if the man they were tailing really _was_ one of the men from the alley in Istanbul. So Tim was acting like a young man on spring break, checking out the local clubs…and the girls who went with them. This would supposedly draw suspicion away from him being Robin but still grab their quarry's attention.

Well…Tim was getting _lots_ of attention…so his plan had succeeded. Unfortunately all the attention was from the local beauties and none, as of yet, from any gangsters, hit men, or other villains. Batgirl shifted restlessly. Oh, she could be silent and still as a statue when the situation called for it…but this situation didn't. After all, what were those bimbos…a word she decided she'd have to thank Barbara for…going to do to _her_? She'd thought they were going to beat the guy up and get the information from him like Tim had promised…not end up with her crouching on a dark rooftop while he got hit upon by every…

"Uh…no thanks. No, really…" Tim's voice broke through the rather reddish haze that was gathering in front of her eyes. One of the women was trying to forcibly remove Tim to her vehicle. Batgirl chuckled behind her mask as Tim tried to politely decline the woman's _kind_ invitation. He threw a rather desperate look her way, but she just shrugged at him. He got himself into this mess…he could get himself out.

Movement down a side street caught her attention and she straightened, focusing. Well. Maybe Tim's plan hadn't been so…no, she cut that thought off. It _was_ a dumb plan. But, unfortunately, it seemed to have worked. She glanced down at Tim again…he had escaped one intent beauty only to be assaulted by another. The fact that he was resisting their advances was drawing even more attention to the scene…probably more attention than they really wanted.

Their "friend" stepped out of the shadows, just long enough for her to recognize him, then slipped away, motioning to someone out of sight. Well…drat. Now she had to Tim from the horde of women before she could follow the man…and by that time he might disappear again! She heaved a sigh and pulled out a line. Batgirl to the rescue!

* * *

"You want me to…_what_!" Barbara sighed as her contact repeated the question for the third time. She really hadn't thought it all that difficult a concept.

"I just wanted you to…"

"No. _No. _Nononono…_no_! Not going to happen."

"But…"

"I can't believe you would ask me to go against…"

"But if I could just…"

"…in _His_ city, no less…"

"You wouldn't be _in_…"

"..and you haven't even told me what the…"

"Will you shut up!" The figure on her screen sat back, blinking at her uncharacteristic outburst. She sighed, trying to let go of her irritation. When she was sure he wasn't going to interrupt again she leaned forward. "Look, I know this isn't your normal kind of operation, but you're the only one who can really pull this one off."

"Why can't Dick…"

"He's…busy." She hastily cut that line of thought off. "Besides, you know, Robin's good enough to detect his presence." At the raised eyebrow this comment elicited she continued, "It's true! They've kind of made a game of 'hide and seek' on slow nights, trying to sneak up on each other. It hones their skills, but it's also made them hyper aware of each other's tricks. Tim would sense him in a heartbeat."

"Ok…but…"

"And you can go in undetected…if you don't need to interfere, there's no need for anyone to know."

"By which I assume you mean Tim. What about…_He_ doesn't know about this, does he?" She rolled her eyes.

"No. He thinks they can take care of themselves."

"Annndd….you….don't?"

"I don't _know_! We're dealing with the unknown here! You _know_ I respect his judgment...most of the time. But he _has_ been wrong before." She made a face at his look of mock horror at this heretical statement. "I know, I know. Not often…but it has happened. That's why I want you to keep an eye on things. Just to cover any contingencies.

'O-kaaay…but, again, why me?"

"You've worked with Tim before…"

"Not closely. If you just needed superpowers, wouldn't one of the Titans be better…his friends and all that?" She gave him a look.

"Yeah, because I can just see Superboy and Kid Flash being willing to stay hidden, or even the inclination not tell Tim we're interfering…they _are _his friends after all. Not to mention simply having the maturity to deal with the situation…I'm not actually sure Tim's told them about his dad yet."

"Don't underestimate them…I've made that mistake myself, and am coming to regret it."

"I…"

"But I see your point. You don't want them put in the position of feeling that they're betraying a friend…or feeling betrayed themselves by learning second hand of this major event in his life."

"Uh….yeah." She blinked, but relaxed. Sensing his imminent capitulation.

"Right. So…to what exotic destination are you sending me?"

"well…the last time we heard from them and they were in Turkey, but I think you should start in Egypt."

"Egypt?"

"A 'Dr. Fledermaus' bought two tickets from Istanbul to Cairo a few hours ago."

"Dr. Flede…?" He dropped his head into his hands into his hands.

"Yes. Quite. I think he got that one from Dick." She grinned at his rueful expression.

"Makes sense. None of you Bats were ever the most creative individuals."

"Uh-_huuh_. Says the ultimate master of creative naming protocols."

"That's me." He winked at her and she laughed.

"Go on. Get out of here. And, Wally…thanks."

* * *

"I didn't _need_ to be 'rescued'" Tim grumped as he untangled himself from Batgirl's cape and the decel line…which had somehow become nearly impossibly snarled, trapping the two of them next to each other.

"Sure you did." He shot her a dirty look…she was doing her best to appear totally innocent…not easy when dressed in a black bat-costume with no face. He rolled his eyes and would have continued the argument but she continued, "I saw our guy."

"Oh?"

"He saw you."

"_And_?" These short sentences were becoming annoying. She sighed in defeat.

"He recognized you."

"Ha! Told you!" She ignored his triumphant grin.

"He has someone with him…they took off. That way." She pointed. Tim's eyes narrowed and he moved towards the edge of the roof, now intent on the case…on his target. Batgirl's arm shot out and latched onto him…stalling his forward progression.

"What…?" she indicated his backpack, stuffed behind some crates on the roof. His Robin suit was inside.

"You should…change."

"_What_? Why? He already recognizes me out of uniform…has seen me with you. If Robin suddenly shows up…" she shook her head at him.

"He knows."

"_WHAT!_" She sighed.

"Not…he doesn't know _you_…your identity. But he's involved in this…searching for Robin. He may not have known in the alley that you… I mean, I think he just made the connection between the boy in the alley and Robin. Just now. So you might as well go in armed." She tried to be nonchalant about it…not let her concern for his safety show. Maybe it worked, because he let out his breath in a _huff_.

"Well that … complicates things." He shook himself and reached for his bag. Batgirl hesitated, then turned and strode over to the edge of the roof, looking out over the city in order to provide him with some privacy. A few minutes later a gloved hand touched her shoulder and she turned.

"Satisfied?" He shot her a cheeky grin, turning from side to side as if to model a new outfit. Rolling her eyes behind her mask, she pushed him aside and took off running across the rooftop. She leapt at the last second, the air rushing past her…the excitement of the chase thrumming through her as she reached out, flipping silently onto the neighboring building. Robin landed a split second later with a soft _thump_.

"Slowpoke." She just laughed at her, obviously feeling the same rush at being back in action.

"Tell me it's a race next time _before_ you take off and we'll see who's slow!" She shook her head at his challenge, smiling beneath the cowl.

"Ok. It's a race." And with that, she took off again, hearing his laughing footsteps close behind.

* * *

"You did what?" Barbara sighed, feeling a distinct sense of déjà vu.

"I _told_ you, I asked Wally to watch out for Tim and Cassandra since…" Two blues eyes blinked at her across the screen.

"Uh…_why_?" his confusion irritated her…well, more than usual, that is.

"Because no one else seems to care whether or not they walk into a trap and get themselves killed!" she snapped. He looked taken aback, and not a little hurt, by this proclamation.

"How can you…"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" She rubbed her forehead, feeling the beginning of a migraine coming on. "I know you care. But…" how to put this delicately?

"But I'm not exactly up to the task?" She searched his face for any sign he was hurt or offended, but all she noted was a combination of light teasing with a hint, just a touch, of self-deprecation.

"Well, I wouldn't say _that_…um…"

"But it's true. I know. I wouldn't be much help with this leg and, seeing how Tim didn't _ask_ for our help…he'd probably resent my interference…even more than Wally's." Babs nodded, glad that _someone_ seemed to be on the same wavelength as she. "Though I do have one question."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Why Wally?" She shook her head. Then again…

"For a number of reasons. First," she ticked them off on her fingers as she went along, "Wally's worked with Tim before. Second, he's _your_ best friend and since Tim is, in effect, your 'little brother' that would have given me the obligation leverage should I have needed it." Dick raised an eyebrow at this, but didn't interrupt.

"Third, he's able to stay hidden, fast enough not to be noticed. Therefore with any luck they won't need help and will never know we interfered."

"We?"

"Fourth…"

"_We_? Hey I never…"

"Fourth…"

"This was all _your_ idea…"

"_Fourth_…"

"You just don't give up, do you?"

"_FOURTH_, he was the most obvious choice…I needed someone with powers. The Titans are too…unpredictable, not to mention too close to Tim. And Batman isn't on the best of terms with most of the JLA which leaves _them_ out. And…"

"I get the picture." She stopped her recital at his laughing protest. "Now. Don't you even want to know why I called?" She narrowed her eyes. In her experience any time one of the Bat-clan, especially Dick, _wanted_ her to ask what they knew, she most likely didn't want to know the answer. She rolled her eyes.

"Ok. Why?"

"Because. _I_ figured out how to prove Cain did it."

* * *

To be continued… 


	21. Chapter 21

Batgirl hissed in pain and glanced down. A red line was rapidly spreading across her upper arm…the knife which had caused the wound quivered nearby, lodged in a crumbling wall. She crouched into a defensive position, searching the shadows for her would-be assassin…only to find that Robin had gotten there first. The…_intensity_…with which Robin was beating the pulp out of the man was…well, it made a warm feeling inside her. With a satisfied grin hidden beneath her mask she turned to take out the man who'd thought to sneak up on her. He hadn't succeeded…obviously. She was in a generous mood so she knocked him unconscious within a few seconds, and surveyed her surroundings. Only two? She turned to voice her doubts on that score to Robin only to find him staring down at the man who'd thrown the knife at her with a perturbed look on his face.

"What?" He looked up, startled out of his reverie. Though hidden behind his mask she could tell when his eyes found the wound on her shoulder. His lips thinned and he actually turned a little pale.

"I'm sorry." The two words were too small to convey the _depth_ of his distress…in fact, he sounded for all the world as if she had died instead of receiving a simple….oh. Well…it was only to be expected that he'd become more overprotective of those near to him…a trait shared among all the men of the Bat clan, she thought ruefully. She sighed. Better snap him out of it.

"Did you throw the knife at me?" He was taken aback.

"What? No, of course not! I just…"

"Then no need to be sorry. Come on." She started down the alley, as if she hadn't a care in the world.

"But…"

"Come _on_!" She heard his exasperated sigh and smiled. Good. If he was irritated at her he couldn't be worried and feeling like he'd failed somehow.

"Batgirl…wait!" She turned, impatient to find their killer and be done with the whole thing.

"_What_?" She snapped, wincing as he came to an uncertain halt.

"I…um. Your arm." She glanced down again, having forgotten her injury. The sleeve of her costume was completely soaked through with her blood, and the wound didn't seem to have any inclination to close in the near future.

"Hmph. I forgot." She could feel his shock, though he was good at hiding it. Really…he should have known better. He'd seen her shot before…and knew her history. Anyone who was punished by her father shooting her was unlikely to be slowed down by a knife cut…even one as deep as this.

"Riiiight…but we'd better wrap it up before we go any further." She let him fuss over her arm for a few minutes, pleased that he wasn't trying to apologize anymore. After all…even if he _should_ have guessed that guards would be left behind to stop them…she should have _known_. She knew how the assassin's mind worked. But they'd been distracted. Having fun racing through the dark, forgetting for a few moments that they were on a deadly serious mission.

"Can we go _now_?" He chuckled at her impatience and rose. She flexed her arm experimentally…the bandage was tight…it had to be to stop her from losing more blood…but loose enough she could still work. She nodded, satisfied.

"Any idea where they went?" His question was said lightly, but she sensed a tension beneath the surface.

"Ummmm…" she looked around. She'd seen the direction they _had_ been going, but they could have…and almost certainly _would_ have…changed direction to lose their pursuit. She sighed and shook her head.

"I see." There was something in his tone…she glanced at him suspiciously.

"What did you do?" He shrugged with a smile.

"The one who threw the knife at you…wasn't _exactly_ unconscious when I left him. By now I'm hoping he's recovered enough to take the initiative to flee back to the boss…after all, _we_ have disappeared and can't be following him." She rolled her eyes.

"You put a tracer on him."

"Well, even if they couldn't kill us, I assumed their aim was to slow us down enough to lose the scent…which they accomplished. So…having successfully bamboozled us and then been left 'unconscious' in a dark alley…there's no reason he can't go back to the nest."

"Unless they were just hired thugs in an alley and have no connection." He made a face and she smothered a giggle. She'd thought of something he hadn't!

"True, but they'd have to have had time to find some 'trustworthy' thugs and pay them in advance…and, while we _were _kind of far behind them, I don't think they had _that_ much time." She _hmphed_ …he was right…again.

"Fine. Where is he?" Robin pulled out his tracer…then grinned.

"This way!"

* * *

Barbara wished she could sink into her chair and simply disappear. Her feelings must have shown because Dick's face took on a mulish expression.

"What!"

"This is like that time you got shot and holed up in _my_ apartment calling America's Most Wanted every ten minutes solving all their unsolved cases for them without even trying, isn't it?"

"Huh?" She waved away his question.

"I've been sitting here for…" she checked the calendar, "almost three weeks without any trace, any lead on clues to Cain's disappearing/reappearing act and within a _day_ of Bruce going all Bat on you…"

"How did you know about that?" she ignored him.

"…you've solved the case. Right?"

"How did you know about…" she rolled her eyes. Clearly she wouldn't get an answer out of him until she responded.

"Because…first, he _always_ goes Bat on you, you've said so yourself. Second, I've been monitoring the cave's security equipment. Third…"

"You hacked the Batcave's computer?" She sighed and raised an eyebrow. His face split into a grin. "I knew there was a reason I loved you." He hesitated. "Have you done that before?"

"Would I tell you if I had?" He blinked and she allowed herself a small smile. "And _third_, because he mentioned it."

"He…wha…why?" She shrugged.

"The only thing I can guess is he wasn't sure how you'd react..." she winked, "you know how he is about loose cannon. His exact words were…and I quote, 'I had a discussion with Nightwing…he might try something stupid. Keep your ears open' end quote." Dick rolled his eyes.

"Nice to know I inspire such confidence."

"If it makes you feel better, I think he really _was_ concerned for _you_…not just afraid you'd do something to screw up." He blinked blankly at her for a second, then shook it off.

"Whatever."

"So…back to the topic at hand…what's the dirt? What have you managed to dig up in a day that I haven't found in weeks of searching through all my contacts?"

"Nothing."

"…" She blinked at him. "Um…ah….you want to run that by me again?"

"Ok. Nothing. Nada. Zip, zilch, zero, not…"

"I _get_ the picture." She massaged her temple. This was what she got from dating someone with a…weird sense of humor. "Ha ha. Very funny."

"But…"

"No, no. That's all right. Joke's over. I have stuff to do."

"But I…"

"Come _on_, Dick. I don't have time for…"

"You didn't even let me finish!" She leveled a cold stare at him. "What?

"What do you mean, 'what'? I didn't say anything." Either her acting skill had taken a huge hit or he knew her too well to be fooled…quite probably both…after all, this whole situation had been grating on her nerves for…  
"You didn't have to." She rolled her eyes, hidden beneath the hand she was currently using to prop up her forehead.

"Fine. I'm sorry. _Do_, please, explain to me again your master plan."

"Sarcasm does _not_ become you" Dick hmphed. Babs sighed.

"In all honesty you've found…_nothing_?"

"Yes, but what I said before was true too. I _do_ know how to prove he did it." Raising a skeptical brow, she sighed.

"Go ahead." And he did. He outlined his plan in _intricate _detail…down to the last speck of dust. Much as she wanted to deny it…in truth, his idea _could_ work. But…

"But it's too involved, too much is at stake with too little gain." Dick's face took on a frighteningly Bat-like quality.

"You don't think Tim and Cassandra's peace of mind is 'enough gain'?" She winced at his tone. Of course, he was right.

"Ok. You win." A boyish grin split his face and she couldn't stop the answering smile.

"Good. Now…" he rubbed his hands together in a parody of the classic 'plotting villain'.

"Wait. Before you plan out your little escapade…I think we should call in backup on this one."

"What? What backup? You're a computer genius and I can do the…oh. You don't think I can do it!" He accused, obviously offended.

"I _know_ you can do it. But…"

"If you're thinking about my leg, it's feeling a _lot_ better." His tone was taking on that irritatingly irresistible puppy-dog quality.

"I'm sure it is. But you don't want to leave a trace, right?" He nodded, slowly. She sighed.

"I just got a message from Wally. He's lost Tim and Cassandra." She grimaced. "In fact, he never found them. They disappeared in Cairo…and, as you've pointed out, since I should be trusting them to make it on their own…"

"You sent someone else, didn't you?"

"What? No, I…"

"Who was it? Superman? Dinah?" Babs sighed.

"I didn't _send_ anyone. On the other hand…unfortunately Bart decided he needed to ask Wally something when he caught up with him methodically casing Cairo he…"

"You're letting _Bart_…Bart Allen?… be their backup?" The incredulity in his voice made her wince.

"I didn't have a choice! You know how…persistent…Bart can be. And…I think Wally felt that it would go over better for Tim to have a friend as backup rather than himself."

"Wally's a friend…they've worked together before…"

"I know. But…really, this gives us an opportunity."

"Oh?" She didn't miss the sarcasm in his tone.

"Wally can do the footwork here. Bart will find Tim and Cassandra…and, if need be, Wally can go back after we're done with him."

"If it's not too late." Babs sighed. She didn't know how to get it through his head…there really was nothing to worry about. Really.

* * *

"Well."

"It's…um…"

"Well it's definitely not what _I_ expected."

"What, do you want me to admit I was wrong? Ok! Fine. I was wrong. The guy was obviously just a two-bit thug hired to do us in and there's no possible other explanation for why he's stopped in at a bar instead of returning to headquarters right away. That what you wanted to hear?" It was…to a point. The frustrated disdain in which it had been delivered left much to be desired.

"Maybe he was thirsty?" Robin shot her a look. Obviously their man _could_ have just stopped off for a drink on his way back. Or arranged to meet someone here, or even suspected he was being followed. She hadn't been trying to make a point with her observation, but Robin apparently was having doubts of his own.

"Or he could be meeting someone, or suspect he's being followed…or…what?" She had shot him a look of such surprise as he echoed her own thoughts that he broke of, concerned. She shook her head.

"And I thought _I_ was the 'mind reader'." He laughed.

"Sorry for snapping at…" she shrugged it off and he subsided. "Anyways, I suppose we had better check it out. They slid silently down to the alley behind the bar. Robin took out a little disk and reached around the door frame, attaching it just inside. The matching viewer he held where they could both see. The bar was crowded, but not overly so. In fact, one corner of the room was completely empty. "Convenient." Batgirl nodded at his assessment and he motioned to the back of the building. There was a door just left of one of the empty booths…perfectly situated for two people to sneak in and spy. Retrieving his camera, Robin stood, turned, and smacked right into a solid body.

"Oomph!" Immediately tensing for an attack, Robin was nonetheless surprised to feel two hands grip his shoulders an shake him a bit…his reflexes must be slowing, because no one should have been able to…

"_There_ you are! I've been looking _all over_ for you!" A _shushing _sound from Batgirl's direction confirmed his first impression.

"Bar…uh…Kid Flash…_what_ are you doing here?"

"Hm? Oh. Well, see I was looking for Wa…I mean, Flash, and then he was looking for you, but then he thought it might be better if _I_ looked for you, so I did and here you are!" He seemed so proud of himself Robin couldn't bear to let him down. He shot a glance at Batgirl, who'd cocked her head to the side and was studying Kid Flash like he was some kind of new specimen. Robin sighed.

"And did Flash happen to mention _why_ he was looking for me?" That, in and of itself was suspicious. Delegating the task to Kid Flash was downright unheard of…not that he couldn't handle it…in fact, Robin had always been of the impression that giving Bart _more_ responsibility would serve to calm him down somewhat…an inclination few others shared. That wasn't to say that Kid Flash's leaps of logic and inclination to go from thought to action in a single impulse (a name, Robin mused, that fit him _much_ better than Kid Flash) didn't grate on his nerves just as much as it did everyone else's.

"Ummmm…." Kid Flash frowned, recognizing a possible mistake on his part.

"Never mind. I can't remember, have you met Batgirl?" Blinking at the sudden change of subject, Kid Flash mutely shook his head and stuck out his hand. Batgirl shook it enthusiastically…_too_ enthusiastically, in Robin's opinion.

"Hi."

"Nice to meet you." An uncomfortable silence fell on the trio.

"So…" Robin sighed. Kid Flash _really_ needed some lessons in patience. "What are we doing here again?"

"_We_…aren't. Batgirl and I were following some…suspects. And you said you didn't know what Flash wanted with me so…" he left the thought open, thinking Kid Flash would take the hint. He didn't.

"Maybe he wanted me to help!"

"I doubt it." Robin mumbled, low enough that no one could hear, though Batgirl obviously got the gist of it, as she elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

"Be right back, Kid Flash. I need to…talk…to you." She yanked him around the corner.

"What!"

"Be nice!" He blinked. She dragged him off a case to spare Kid Flash's _feelings_?

"I _am_. I just…" he broke off. He couldn't explain his own feelings…that he wasn't ready to share his father's death with anyone else. Not until he had some closure…had caught the man responsible.

"He wants to help. He is…very good." He eyed her suspiciously.

"Good?" She shook her head.

"Um…young?" He frowned. What was she getting at?

"Innocent!" She lit up at the word and he gaped at her.

"You're saying we should let him hunt for my father's murder with us because he's _innocent?_" She nodded, then shook her head.

"That might not be right either. He… knows darkness, but it doesn't affect him." She ducked her head, hesitating over the next part. "You…used to be like that. Now…" she didn't have to finish the statement. Robin felt a clutching pain in his chest. Had he really changed that much? Part of him argued that it was to be expected…his father was _dead_, after all! But another voice chimed in that he didn't want to end up like Batman, cold and unable to touch those around him…and that if he continued on his current path, he would.

"So you want him as a role model." It was not a question. She shrugged and looked away. "All right. He can stay." They returned to the side of the building only to find the subject of their discussion missing.

"Um…" Robin grinned at her confusion. Aside from his levity, not to mention superpowers, Kid Flash could have made a great member of the Bat team…he was certainly able to melt away easily enough.

"If he wants to come with us, he'll find us. Let's get on with it." She nodded, still looking around. Robin placed his camera again, this time next to the booth they'd both noticed. It was still empty, and from this angle they could see a "reserved" sign gracing the tabletop. A commotion at the front door told them they'd set their equipment just in time. A few men walked in, clustered around someone who was obviously their boss. They moved in front of the camera for a second, blocking all access. Batgirl felt Robin tense…this could be a problem. Then the picture cleared and Robin when absolutely sheet white.

"What?" She peered into the viewscreen, trying to figure out what had upset him so much. It was just a man…she didn't recognize him. Throwing a confused glance at Robin, she reached out and shook him. "_What_? What is it?"

"It's Johnny Warren."

* * *

To be continued… 


	22. Chapter 22

"I still can't believe you left _Bart _in Egypt." Dick shook his head. They were in his apartment, going over the plan.

"_I_ still can't believe you dragged me into this in the first place! It may be true that I _can _be in 2 places at once, but it's not a particularly favorite activity of mine. Besides, what did you want me to do? He ran into me when I was canvassing Cairo. I think he was bored, because he didn't really _say_ anything to me, just asked what I was doing and if he could help." Dick rolled his eyes and Wally sighed. "I don't know…I've been thinking lately that we've all underestimated him. He hasn't really given anyone cause to doubt him…it's just that his flighty nature makes us _think_ he won't be there when you need him. But he always is. And I figured Tim would need a friend more than an adult 'ally'…no matter what Barbara may think." He looked a bit uncomfortable with the subject, and Dick let it drop.

"Ok, fine. In any event, Tim and Cassandra can pretty much take care of themselves…I think Babs was a _little_ bit panicky when she called you in. Anyway, you get the general idea here?"

"Yeah, I think I get the '_general_' idea." He answered wryly. Dick grinned.

"Well, I can't go into to much detail yet…parts are still being worked out. And a lot is going to be improvise anyway…good thing one of us thinks fast on his feet." His tone left no doubt as to which of them he was referring.

"Ha, ha. I suppose I should be grateful you're not resorting to bad puns." Dick laughed, and silence fell. After a minute or two, Wally cleared his throat.

"You know…I understand _what_ we're doing…but I'm still not exactly clear on _why_ we're doing…I mean, isn't framing someone usually considered the 'bad guy's' domain?" Dick didn't look up from his work, though his face took on a grimmer cast.

"In the normal course of things…yes. This isn't normal. Cain's an assassin. Cassandra is his daughter…and she's working with _us_. I don't have to tell _you_ all the dangers, pitfalls, and other problems that has and will cause us. Cain knows our identities," Wally winced. He knew first hand what _that _could do to a hero's home life. "And he's 'let' himself be locked up after framing Bruce for a particularly bloody murder…just because Cass wanted him to. But that's the only reason he remains in prison…because she wanted him to. And …" he broke off, reaching down to twist a wire into place.

"And?"

"Well, he broke out to kill Tim's father. There's no telling how much longer he's going to sit around in prison just on Cass's say-so. Besides, Cass seems to think part of his motivation is to get to her somehow. So… _we_ know he did it…and _he _knows he did it…but no one _else_ knows. He's good…we don't have any proof. So we have to frame him to ensure the authorities know he can get out…and take the proper precautions."

"And that's where I come in?" Dick nodded.

"We know a number of ways he could have gotten out…you need to do a run through and see if you can spot anymore. Then, once our…_creative doctoring_ of various cameras and security devices is complete, you can switch them with the originals."

"And how are you going to make sure anyone knows about this? Any tapes that were relevant would have been examined by now, right?" Dick nodded again.

"Yes. But…" an explosion outside distracted him and he sighed. "Blüdhaven, gotta love it." With that he grabbed his mask and pulled off the sweater that had been covering his costume. Wally shook his head. He was sure Dick shouldn't be doing acrobatics with that leg, but stopping him was _not_ in his repertoire. Another explosion made him frown. "You coming?" Wally grinned. Then again…

* * *

"You said he was _dead_." Batgirl accused, grimacing to herself under her mask at the way Robin was tensing up. If she didn't know better, she'd think this Johnny Warren was a horrific super-villain on the scale of Joker or Bane or…or _something_. But he seemed like he was…well…kinda puny. So why was Robin…?

"He did…I mean, he _was_…I mean…" Robin swore softly, then sighed. There was no reason this should be freaking him out _this_ much. After all, it was only a killer with super-powers somehow raised from the dead… no big deal. _Yeah right_. He swore again…mentally, this time, not wanting to attract any attention…and began to slowly back out the way they'd come.

"Where're you _going_?" Batgirl looked on in disbelief as he retreated. A firm hand grasped her elbow and yanked her back with him.

"Regrouping."

"Huh?" He didn't answer, simply hauled her out into the alley. She let him, trusting…_hoping…_ he had a good reason for his strange behavior. It was…disturbing. He drew a couple of deep breaths of the stale air and it seemed to calm him.

"Listen, I know he doesn't look it, but Johnny Warren is a dangerous guy. He was in a good position to take over in Gotham…eventually…back when I first encountered him. He's ruthless and ambitious. I got in his way…" he looked away for a second, collecting his thoughts. "Actually, it was partially my fault he lost his hand... he tried to shoot me when I'd clogged up the gun…but he disappeared for awhile and then…I don't know. I don't _know_…you see? That's the problem. He didn't have powers before and then he _did_ and was apparently intent on destroying everything in my life because he blamed _me_ for the loss of his hand. And he attacked St…Spoiler and me with these powers and…and…" he realized he was ranting and beginning to hyperventilate so he shut up.

"And you killed him." Batgirl prodded, earning herself a dirty look.

"I did _not_. At least…I thought I did, but everyone said I didn't…he…you don't understand. He literally _fell apart_. Like he was a mummy on one of those movies who suddenly loses power or something." A funny look flitted across his face and Batgirl cocked her head.

"You think he's a mummy?" Robin sighed.

"No. It was an _analogy_. But it _was_ similar…more like a zombie…dead, but some power was keeping him alive." He nodded back to the bar, "obviously." Batgirl nodded sagely, waiting for him to stop trying to rationalize supernatural forces and decide to finish what they'd started. After a minute or two, she sighed, deciding he _wasn't_ going to finish trying to rationalize…this _was_ Tim, for goodness' sake.

"So let's go get him."

"Are you nuts? This changes everything." He narrowed his eyes. "Besides, didn't Batman say you weren't supposed to get involved with metas?" She shrugged, assuming an innocent expression, even though he wouldn't be able to see under her mask. "Anyway, we need to completely revamp the whole plan."

"What plan?" Had they _had_ a plan? He ignored her and continued.

"We can't just take on a meta without taking the proper precautions." This time she remained silent as he began pacing. "We need to know the extent of his powers. See if we can find any weaknesses. We know he's got _some_ sort of telekinesis, so we have to figure out how to keep him from simply plucking us up off the ground and electrocuting us." He twitched a bit and she decided he must have already been on the receiving end of this particular power. "Of course, we don't know if that's the _only_ power he has, so we'd have to be extra cautious. A sneak attack would be best, but not until…" a _clunk_ down the alleyway drew Batgirl's attention. She slipped away to investigate, leaving Robin muttering to himself.

* * *

"If this isn't important, _someone_ is going to be in a _whole_ lotta pain." Barbara muttered as an insistent beeping cut short her train of thought just as the answer to a puzzle she'd been pondering for the past three days was about to pop into her head. Of course, with the distraction, it popped right back out again.

"What?" she snapped into the mic, not even checking to see who it was… not caring if she irritated the caller. A pause on the other end told her she most likely _had_, and she heaved a sigh as a glance to the monitor confirmed her suspicions.

"Is this a bad time?" The tone perfectly conveyed the complete indifference to the convenience of his timing.

"No! No. Not at all." She allowed the sarcasm to saturate her tone, knowing that sometimes, World's Greatest Detective or no, he didn't quite get subtlety.

"Hmph. What are two speedsters doing in my city?" She rolled her eyes. "In and out of Gotham twenty-three times in the last two hours, actually." Barbara blinked. She should have known they couldn't keep Flash's involvement from him, but that he'd know so _quickly_ was…wait a second.

"Um…" He'd said _two_. That wasn't in their game plan. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, searching out the information he had apparently accessed with ease. She was sure he had all kinds of sensors and equipment up to tag any and all known metas moving about in Gotham's vicinity.

"Well?" She sighed, loudly enough for the mic to pick it up.

"I don't know, ok? I'm _checking_." She thought he may have _humphed_ again, but he remained otherwise silent. "Uh, since you seem to know so much about this…mind mentioning _which_ two speedsters? Might narrow the search and all."

"Flash has been here seventeen times. Kid Flash eight."

"That doesn't add up to twenty-three" she pointed out acerbically.

"Twice they seemed to have been together. I counted those occasions as one." She rolled her eyes again. She managed to finally tap into his monitoring system and frowned. She _knew_ why Flash had been in and out…though they had hoped to get the mission _done_ before Batman found out. He was picking up supplies and doing reconnaissance for Dick. But what was _Kid Flash_…? She stifled a groan. He had at least twice visited Tim's family's apartment. Bart was…slow…sometimes, but even he couldn't miss all the police tape still hanging all over the apartment. Tim was going to be pissed. She narrowed her eyes. What would he be doing at…? Possibly helping Flash, she supposed.

"Don't play games with me, Oracle. I _know_ you called them in to…"

"Hold it! I did no such thing. I _may_ have contacted Flash to try to help locate Tim and Cass, but I don't have any idea what he or Kid Flash are doing!" Batman grunted and cut the connection. She figured he didn't believe her, but at least he recognized that she wasn't going to give him any information. Not that she _could_…

"Tim, I hope you know what you're doing." She buried her head in her hands, fighting off a killer headache. She didn't know what Kid Flash was up to, but he had hit at least two of the top technology companies in the city. If he wasn't acting out some plan of Tim's…well, she wouldn't even know where to _begin_ to guess his motive. She shook her head and reached out a hand. At least she could alert the others.

"Oracle to Nightwing."

* * *

Sticking to the shadows, Batgirl moved with confidence. Another _thunk_ made her reconsider the threat this person posed…not very subtle, were they? She reached the corner and peered around it…and sighed.

"What are you doing _now_?" she stepped into the light.

"Yipes!" Kid Flash jumped, glancing up at her guiltily from a tangle of wires and metal objects. Batgirl folded her arms across her chest and waited. "Um…I was trying to build this…" he moved and suddenly the tangle of wires was a ten-foot-tall machine of some kind "…but the wires got crossed and I think I have the wrong size bolts and…" they both winced as, demonstrating his words, the machine settled and began to tilt precariously towards them. In another instant Kid Flash had it reduced to a pile of parts again.

"Um…but what _is_ it?" He blinked at her.

"A robot." She cocked her head, examining the pile of parts again.

"A robot."

"Yup." He grinned, obviously proud of himself…but she wasn't quite sure why.

"In the middle of the night…in Cairo?" His enthusiasm dimmed a bit at the skepticism in her tone. He sighed.

"Yeah. I wanted to help you guys on your case." It was Batgirl's turn to blink. A robot was supposed to help them…_how_? But before she could voice the question, Robin rounded the corner.

"_There_ you are. Where'd you…oh. Hey Kid Flash."

"Hi." He sent a morose look at the heap scattered around him and Robin followed his gaze.

"A TZ63?" Kid Flash's face brightened.

"_Yeah_! I thought I couldsenditinand…"

"Whoa! Slow down." Kid Flash grinned sheepishly. Robin glanced down, then sighed. "It was a really good idea, really. But the TZ63 is for human capture and restraint…our guy is a meta with unknown powers. Even if we got this working, it probably wouldn't hold him." Kid Flash's face fell for a split second, then perked up again.

"But _you_ could fix it, right? I mean, make it so he can't get out?" Robin looked at his hopeful expression and felt his chest tighten. Batgirl was right…in so many ways Bart was still "innocent". Believing in magic and happily-ever-after. Something Robin wasn't sure he'd ever believe in again. He glanced and Batgirl and stifled a sigh. She was looking at him with the same hopeful expression…or, at least he _thought _she was. Her body language _seemed_ hopeful, even though he couldn't see her face. He hated to let them down, but…

"I…I suppose we could _try._ I'm not promising anything, though. We don't know the extent of Johnny Warren…or Warlock, I guess…anyway, his powers." The warning fell on deaf ears.

"Good! Whatd'youneedmetodo?" Robin sighed, but couldn't keep a smile from tugging at his lips.

"Well, first, we need to find ourselves a headquarters, to work out of sight."

"Okay!" And he disappeared. Robin shook his head and glanced at Batgirl. She was studying him intently.

"What?" She shook her head and shrugged.

"I…"

"Found one!" They both turned as Kid Flash bounced up. "There's an abandoned warehouse on a few blocks away. Empty…no sign anyone else is using it as a secret hideout either!" He beamed, obviously proud to have thought to check for that small-yet-important detail. Robin smiled at him.

"Good job." He glanced back at the cantina. "Just a sec…" he disappeared around the corner for a few moments, then reappeared. "Ok. Let's go." He caught Batgirl's eye as they turned to go. "Later." He wasn't going to let her get out of whatever it was she had been about to say.

* * *

To be continued… 


	23. Chapter 23

A shadow fell over the jumble of parts laid out in a carefully organized manner. Tim sighed, rubbing his hand over his eyes. "Bart, I _told_ you twenty times already, I _don't_ have any…" he broke off as he realized it wasn't Bart standing over him. "Oh. Hey Cass." He turned his attention back to the supposed robot he was trying to fix. She stared at the back of his head for a couple seconds, then sighed.

They had holed up in the warehouse Bart had found for them the previous night…it was currently late afternoon and Tim hadn't stopped to rest or eat the entire time they'd been there. At least he'd removed some of his costume…his mask, cape, and gloves….but he was still in full "Robin mode" while Cass and Bart had changed into civvies in order to feel a little more comfortable. This, in turn, would supposedly help them "think better," according to Bart who had then vanished only to bring back food, water, and sleeping bags she suspected hadn't been aired in years within a few seconds. Now he was rewiring the warehouse in an attempt to get them better lighting and some semblance of a security system. He claimed he'd read all about how to do it and would have no problem…Cass kept her doubts to herself.

"I brought you some food." She held the Styrofoam container out to Tim, hoping to gain a response…in vain. He continued puzzling over the disassembled parts. She frowned and moved so she was blocking his view, earning her a scowl.

"Cass, I don't have time for…"

"It's a _sandwich_. Chips. Drink. You haven't eaten all _day_." If possible, his countenance became darker. "It won't take any time…you can eat and work at the same time. Even Batman does eat _sometimes_." She added with more than a little sarcasm. She plopped the food down in front of him, strongly tempted to storm off in a huff. Instead, she moved aside and dropped lithely to the floor beside him.

"Are you planning on _watching_ me eat?" She shrugged.

"Want to make sure you do." She grinned, adding "Why do you think Batman eats?" He blinked at her blankly and she sighed. "Alfred _makes_ him. Besides, I want to know how you're doing." She indicated the mess in front of them. He eyed her for a second, then sensing she wasn't likely to give up easily, rubbed his face in defeat. He reached for the container and opened it.

"Where'd you get this?" She shrugged.

"I dunno. Ki…Bart brought it. Why?" He chuckled wearily.

"Because this is one of Alfred's sandwiches." She blinked down at the item in question.

"Um…you sure? I didn't think he…"

"Who knows what Bart knows?" He shrugged. "All he has to do to find someone is case a town at superspeed. He found out my identity that way once when the universe was…twisted." She shot him a skeptical look. "No, really. Everyone underestimates Bart…even me. It wouldn't surprise me if he's known Batman's identity for years and just not cared…that's how he is…if it's unnecessary information it tends to slip his mind until the time it becomes necessary. I just…don't know how he'd know to get food from there. He shouldn't know that I'm living there right now instead of …" he broke off, not wanting break the easy mood that had stolen over them the past few minutes. Cass, reading his discomfort, shrugged and kept her tone light.

"Well, you should eat it. If Alfred made it, I'm sure it's very good." He gave her a half-hearted smile.

"I supp-"

"Hey guys!" They both stifled sighs and Tim found himself wondering if even Cass was regretting her insistence to include Bart in their case. "Whatcha doin?" He continued before they had a chance to answer, "I got the lights working in the rest of the warehouse and the old security system's working now, and I fixed the waterline and…"

"Um, that's great, Bart." Tim interrupted, fighting a laugh. "Great job, thanks." Bart beamed, thrilled to have been able to help.

"How's the robot coming?" He looked around at the scattered items. "I could…"

"No! I mean… no thanks. I still haven't figured out how to fix it to hold Warren." Bart sighed and an uneasy silence fell. Cass cleared her throat, never one to beat about the bush.

"How did you get the food?"

"_Cass_!" She ignored Tim's frustrated outburst. Bart blinked confused at the underlying tones…unsure whether or not he'd messed up…again.

"I…I asked Nightwing. I didn't have any money and I thought you'd like food from home but your apartment was locked up and didyouknow there's police tape all over the place? Oh, yeah, of course you do…but I didn't know where to go so I went to Blüdhaven and asked Nightwing where you moved to so I could get some food and he told me to go there and so I did and got the food and didImessup?" Tim sighed, burying his face in his hand.

"Nightwing sent you to…" Cass questioned, unsure if she really wanted to know the answer.

"Um…yeah. He said you moved in with Mr. Wayne, an old friend of the family. So I went there…I didn't go in costume! And the butler… I can't believe you have a _butler_! I said we were going camping and he gave me the food and the sleeping bags and…um." Bart finally ran out of words. Cass raised an eyebrow at Tim and he sighed again.

"Thanks, Bart."

"Am I in trouble?" Tim wearily shook his head.

"No. No problem. Sorry." Bart looked unconvinced, but Cass wouldn't let him reopen the subject, instead turning to Tim with a playfully stern look on her face.

"So eat your food and get some rest and…"  
"I don't have time for this." He cut her off as she started to object. "I'll eat. But if you want me to figure out this robot, you _have_ to leave me alone." She _humphed_ at his return to his earlier grumpy state.

"Fine. Come on, Bart. Let's…find something to do." She paused for a second after Bart zipped away. "You know…he's going to find out sooner or later. You should just _tell_ him…he should know what he's getting into." Tim refused to meet her eyes. She hesitated one second more, then turned and followed in Bart's wake.

* * *

"Thanks, Oracle." Nightwing cut the connection and sighed.

"What?" Flash paused in his tying up the gang member responsible for blowing up two bars and a liquor store and glanced up at his friend.

"Batman's asking why _two_ speedsters have been in Gotham multiple times over the past few hours." He ran a hand through his hair.

"So I can safely assume Batman knows nothing of this plan of yours?" Nightwing shrugged.

"I don't know what he _knows_. But I haven't mentioned it…no."

"Don't think he'd approve?" Flash still wasn't sure _he_ approved…but Nightwing had always had issues with Batman's approval.

"Don't know…don't care." His tension belied his careless words, but Flash refrained from comment. His silence paid off, as Nightwing filled the gap. "We've all got our own ideas about how to go about solving this case." He paused, considering carefully.

"Batman wants to use detective work to find the people behind the hit, which we pretty much all agree with, and threats to keep Cain in line, which some of us feel is unrealistic. Tim, obviously, feels the important thing is to find the guy in charge and take him out. Cass feels responsible so she's out to keep Tim from getting hurt even more, whether physically or emotionally. Plus, I think, she's trying to prove that she isn't a jinx or guilty…not that anyone really thinks that of her.

"Babs is caught in the middle, wanting to be useful, but being stuck just searching via computers. So she turns to you and me and others and works on doctoring the evidence to keep Cain locked up for the rest of his life. And as for me…well, I wish everyone luck with their hunting, but recognize that I'd just get in the way." He indicated his leg. "Which is why I'm going to at least make sure Cain gets blamed for the murder, which will have the added bonus of clearing Mrs. Drake once and for all. It will also take pressure off of Cass."

"What about this assassin they said was headed towards Blüdhaven?"

"Hmm? I don't know. I've never heard of her. Tim said she was going after Blockbuster…" Flash didn't have to read his friend's mind to know what he was thinking.

"What are you doing about it?" Nightwing shot him a glare as he finished restraining the man he'd knocked unconscious, then glanced away with a frustrated grunt.

"I've alerted the police…who've alerted Blockbuster. He's stepped up his security." He paused, then grudgingly continued, "If Scarab shows up, I'll hear about it and take appropriate measures. Otherwise…" He shrugged and pulled out a grapple-gun. Flash sighed. He knew his friend had been under incredible strain from Blockbuster and the temptation to let the assassin have her way would be overwhelming. But he _also_ knew that Nightwing would never allow the temptation to be anything but…he would do all in his power to keep the evil man alive, even at his own cost.

Both men fell silent as they left their victims behind and headed back towards Nightwing's abode. They remained so as Nightwing completed his plans and Flash ran errands to get the supplies Nightwing had requested. In fact, it wasn't until they stood on the shore, viewing the dark silhouette that was Blackgate Penitentiary that the silence was broken.

"Are you _really_ sure about this?" Flash glanced dubiously at his friend.

"Getting cold feet?"

"Of course not. But…" how could he tell his best friend that this plan felt more like something out of a cheap thriller than a strategy concocted by one of Batman's protégées. Nightwing sighed.

"I know. I just…it's the best I can do right now." Flash nodded, then disappeared, speeding towards the prison. He checked every door, window, laundry chute, and opening larger than a mouse hole. He only hesitated when he came to the door to Cain's cell. He glanced inside, wondering what it was that made a person like Cain. What shaped his mind so that he could sit there in calm serenity after committing hundreds of brutal murders, experimenting on innocent children, and using his own daughter as a weapon to be feared by all.

All this went through his head faster than his form could even become visible to the guard, then he was on his way again. He went so far as to thumb through the inmate and employee files in case Cain had someone working from the inside to aid his escapes. Then he dashed back across the harbor to where Nightwing stood waiting.

"Forty-five seconds…you're getting slow in your old age." Flash grinned.

"Just being thorough. I didn't find anything you hadn't already identified, though." Nightwing shrugged.

"At least we know. Come on. Time for stage two."

* * *

Cass returned to Tim's workroom a few hours later, feeling a bit guilty for snapping at him when she knew he was under so much stress. She had brought a peace offering of some kind of local dessert she'd bought at a local market. She and Bart had gone out to "check out the surroundings and get a lay of the land"…Bart's words. She had decided it couldn't hurt, so they'd spent an enjoyable hour or so together. Oh, it hadn't all been fun and games…they had learned that Johnny Warren had gained a reputation in these parts as being cursed by a demon. When Cassandra would have asked for clarification, Bart had informed her, with a very learned air, it was an expression used to describe someone very evil or with very strange habits…or both. He had then spoiled his knowledgeable impression by grinning and confessing he'd read it in a book somewhere.

Now Cass found herself hesitating on interrupting Tim again. She couldn't quite believe that just a few short weeks ago they had been so in tune to each other…relatively carefree. He had been funny and warm…and now he was in danger of turning into a mini-Batman. Dark, short with his friends, pushing people away. Every minute he seemed to slip farther down that road. Setting her shoulders, Cass pushed open the door, determined that that would not happen.

She needn't have worried. Tim was slumped across the table housing the smaller pieces of his high-tech puzzle. She took a few running steps across the floor before realizing he was sleeping, not passed out. She managed to hold back a relieved sigh, but failed to stop a giggle from slipping through as Tim slid out of his chair and landed gracelessly in a heap on the floor.

"Ow." Hearing her laugh he blinked blearily up at her. "What happened?" She could see suspicion lurking behind his eyes and shook her head with a twinge of sadness.

"You fell." He glanced around him with some irritation

"No kidding." She grinned as he sighed and struggled to his feet. "I fell asleep, didn't I?" She nodded mutely, still unable to quite hold in her mirth. He glared at her mutinously.

"Don't worry, I won't say 'I told you so.'" He rolled his eyes and turned back to the disassembled robot. "Are you…making any progress?" she sobered. He sighed again and shook his head and his shoulders slumped. "So…why not just stop? Make another plan?" He didn't reply but she could read his answer in his posture. She shook her head, glad to see a glimmer of 'her' Tim within this depressed figure.

"I…"

"Tim." She waited until he met her eyes. "That's very sweet. But…" she shrugged. "You already told him it probably won't work. It won't upset him…he just wants to help." He glanced away, frustrated.

"Yeah, well…I might as well. I don't have any _other_ ideas."

"What ideas do you need?" He laughed.

"What, like we can go pick them up at the store?" She smiled, shrugging, and sat down beside him.

"Maybe not. But it might help to talk…explain what you're thinking. Maybe others can see what you aren't."

"In other words, two heads are better than one?"

"Or three…or more." He shot her a sharp glance.

"I don't think I'm ready to bring in…"

"I didn't say you should. It was just a suggestion" she replied acerbically.

"I know, I _know_." He ran a hand through his hair. "Ok. I guess I'm just stuck on one point. Where does Warren's power come from? What does it do?"

"That's two…" He gave her a friendly shove.

"Ha. Ha. Funny. No…I can't fix this to contain him if I don't know his powers! He could just get right back out…I mean…the guy _died_! I _saw_ him, Cass. He was in pieces! How do you stop someone with those kind of powers?" She bit her lip, unsure if that was an actual question or more of the rhetorical kind.

"Um…"

"Never mind." He shoved aimlessly at the pile in front of him.

"No. Let me help! Let's see…." she screwed up her face, thinking about what she could bring to his considerations, "Well…where do _you_ think his powers come from?" He gave her a look implying she had lost her mind…which she wasn't entirely sure was incorrect.

"How the heck should _I_ know?" Tim shot at her, but then frowned recognizing that… "you may have a point," he admitted grudgingly.

"Huh?"

"I've been so concerned about how to defeat him, how to take him out, I forgot that important point. Johnny disappeared for…weeks, possibly months, before showing back up with powers." He made a face, disgusted at his own stupidity. "I should have been looking at that all along…how could I have been so _stupid_!" Cass winced at the venom in his tone, sensing in it another step towards Tim's transformation into another Batman…blaming himself, pushing others away…

"You couldn't have…" she tried to head off his angry outburst but was stopped by a different type of intervention.

"Hey guys, you better come look at this!" They both glanced up at Bart's sudden appearance.

"What?"

"That guy you were watching… he just blew up that bar he was at last night!" Tim was pulling his gloves on, his mask already affixed to his face. Cass, too, was donning her costume with all possible speed.

"What do you know about it?" Tim questioned.

"Um…some guy went in and then the other guy, the one you were following,"

"Johnny Warren." Tim bit out.

"Yeah. Him. He just blew the whole building up!" He made a face at them, clearly impatient. "Come _on_!" Time clipped his cape on and glanced over to see if Cass had likewise finished her transformation to Batgirl.

"Ready?" She nodded, clasping her belt around her waist.

"Good!" Bart had apparently taken her nod as a "let's go" because the next thing they knew he'd grabbed them both and zipped them over to the scene of the crime. As they stood outside, watching men dig desperately through the rubble to rescue casualties, Batgirl shook her head.

"Maybe it's time to call for back-up?"

* * *

To be continued… 


	24. Chapter 24

"Uh-huh. And you're going to make sure they see these…_how_?" Dick shook his head in exacerbation at Wally's question. In truth, he could understand his friend's confusion, but he wasn't used to explaining everything he did to a partner. When with the Titans he had done briefings and given orders, even detailed reports at times. But this was different. It was his home turf, where he was used to working autonomously. And he didn't like having to spend the time explaining the players, situations, and his own methods while setting up this project.

"Just….trust me." Wally didn't look convinced, but he remained silent.

"How's it coming?" Barbara rolled into the room carrying a tray piled with sandwiches and a couple mugs of coffee. They had moved their operation to her apartment in the clock tower and had donned civilian clothes just in case someone happened to drop by unannounced. Not to mention they were more comfortable.

"Food! You're a life saver!" Wally zipped over and took to tray from Babs, consuming over half the sandwiches before he'd gotten back to Dick's workstation. Dick merely grunted in answer to Babs' query.

"Nice to be needed." She said wryly, grimacing as Dick distractedly reached for a sandwich and managed to drip crumbs across the floor and tabletop before taking a bite.

"Thanks for letting us crash here, Babs." Dick, having heard the sarcasm in her tone, forced himself to tear his gaze off the tape he was working on. Babs gave him a funny look, the kind that pretty much read "uh, _hello_? Me. You. Dating…you 'crash' here all the time!" Dick just grinned, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before returning his attention to the project in front of him.

"You know, I could have done this on my computer…a lot faster and less able to prove as a fake." Dick shook his head.

"That's the point. We _want_ them to be obvious as fake. Well, not _too _obvious, but…"

"What!"

"Huh?" He blinked up at two confused faces and sighed.

"Didn't I explain?" When the only response he got was a raised eyebrow from Babs, he sighed…again. "That's how we get them to 're-check' the security tapes. All the evidence shows Cain safe and snug in Blackgate, no reason to even suspect him. If we were to plant the suspicion in the right minds _now_, they'll check records and see he was there. But these tapes, which will show exactly what the original ones show, will be fakes. Wally will switch them out before we go to the authorities. Their experts will spot the altered tapes, with a little digging, and start an investigation."

"So we're not framing Cain by putting him _in_ the video?" Wally frowned.

"No, that would be too obvious. Or, even if it weren't, it would get some poor prison guards in a whole heap of trouble by missing Cain walking blithely down the hall. No, this way they'll start an investigation. We'll plant just enough evidence to make it seem like he _could_ be guilty, but he _could_ be innocent. Cain's too good, and they know it, to get caught with…well, caught period." Babs blinked, but then grinned.

"You know, this just might work."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence." Dick grumbled, earning him a slap on the shoulder, followed by a deep kiss.

"Ahem." Wally cleared his throat, waiting for them to come up for air. "Um…guys?" They broke apart, laughing.

"Sorry." Wally was tempted to roll his eyes, but thoughts of Linda set in and he had to admit that if she were present he'd probably have been doing the same thing.

"Can we get back to work, here?"

"I'll see you later, I've got to go guide Dinah through a Malaysian sewer system." Dick and Wally exchanged glances as Babs wheeled out of the room.

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not…._I_ sure don't." And with that they fell silent again as Dick turned back to the table to put the finishing touches on the altered tapes.

* * *

"_No_! No, no, no….I'm telling you, Cass…"

"I heard you the _first_ time!" Though Bart had made himself scarce as soon as they'd returned to the warehouse, Cass still felt strangely embarrassed at her and Tim's behavior. They'd checked out the bar, only to discover Warren had disappeared again, and returned back to the warehouse to regroup. But when Cass had reiterated her feeling that they needed backup, Tim had somehow transformed himself into a raging monster. Which led to their current shouting match…so much for a "secret" hideout…and her feelings of embarrassment.

"Well then _why_…" She tuned his rant out as she tried to tamp down the urge to bash him over the head. Truly, her feelings of anger and frustration were outweighing the embarrassment tenfold.

They were nothing compared to her fear, though.

"Will you _shut up_!" She caught him off guard, knocking his legs out from under him and felling him like a tree. She then simply stood there for a second, catching her breath, savoring the silence...not to mention grinding her teeth and making tight fists out of frustration. Tim, wisely, remained on the ground.

"I…"

"I _know_ you don't want help. You want to do this yourself. You feel…responsible. But you said yourself…we don't know his powers. He's obviously strong, came back from the dead, some kind of electric-thingy…"she ticked off his abilities as she continued, "and you don't know where he got them."

"Actually…"

"_So_…" she raised her voice cutting him off and keeping him effectively silenced with one glare, "why not get help? You don't want to tell your friends…don't want Batman to help? So call…" she frowned, realizing she'd just about demolished her own argument. Tim sighed.

"That's the whole problem. Dealing with a meta often calls for other metas. But I _don't_ want to get anyone else involved, and not just because of my dad." He glanced down at his hands. "You weren't there. Didn't see this guy in action."

"Neither were…"

"I mean _before_ today. Before he had powers. Even as a two-bit thug he..._worried_…me. There was a look in his eyes…he's capable of being as bad as the worst villains we've fought. Joker, Scarecrow…he's right up there with them, just as ruthless and without the weakness of insanity...though I guess that part's debatable. Anyway, with powers…well, I think the only reason he _hasn't_ turned to world conquest or something is his obsession with me. I wouldn't think I rated so much attention…but when he attacked Spoiler and me he had this…this…insane need to 'teach me a lesson' or something. He _told_ me he'd hunt down, hurt, everyone I'd cared about. It's what's driving him…or at least what _was_." Cass crouched down beside him.

"So he won't be expecting…"

"But we don't _know _that. You know, you got me thinking when you said 'where do his powers come from'. I know he had some kind of artifact that was stolen from S.T.A.R. labs, which they never recovered. But I _don't_ know what it was or what it did. Batman was handling that end of things, and after I thought…well, anyway, I was a bit distracted, to say the least."

"So call Batman, find out what it did." Tim buried his face in his hands.

"I _can't_! I can't ask for help…not _His_ help! I…" She placed a hand on his shoulder.

"He wouldn't think you failed." Tim drew in a shuddering breath.

"Maybe not. But I…I can't explain. Everything's happened so fast and…" he bit his lip. "Cass…Bruce has been like a father to me for years. I never quite looked at it that way…but he has. Sometimes more than my own was…the rest of you were _definitely_ more like family to me than my own. And how can I ask my 'surrogate father' to help hunt down my real father's killer?" Cass blinked. Didn't seem all that difficult a request to _her_ but…

"_That's_ what all this is about? I thought it was about wanting to prove…"

"Well, that's a big part of it. I know I've been a real jerk lately and…"

"S'ok. Understandable."

"Yeah, but it's not. Not really. Do you know…I think the thing that's made me act the worst is the realization that I don't really care."

"Huh?"

"I mean, my _dad_ died. And I'm upset…" she held her silence, though she thought his personality changes were a lot more than 'upset', "that he died and I suppose I'll miss him on some level….but not…not really."

"I'm confused." He stood, walking away from her so he wouldn't have to see her reaction to his confession.

"I was mad at my dad for interfering with Robin. Before that I was mad on some level, I'm sure, that he had been gone all my life. I mean, he was never a 'dad' to me. Until he got hurt and then Dana came along and I know he wanted to be a 'family', but all I could see was his plans messing up my life as Robin. And then…now he's dead and while I'll miss him and I mourn him, there's a small part of me that's relieved, because now I don't have to _fight_ him and…" he drew in a deep breath, "and that's the worst part of all. I can't believe I feel that way and it's making me a nasty, bitter, grump."

Cass didn't know what to say. No one would fault _her_ for being glad her father was dead, but it wasn't an emotion one would link to Tim. Not because it might not be a valid feeling…but because he was always so…_good_. Always doing the right thing. And she realized that that wasn't just how she saw him, but how everyone saw him…and it had become how he saw himself…and he couldn't connect that person with the feeling of relief at his father's passing.

"Um…"

"Can I come in?" She was saved from a response by Bart, looking uncharacteristically cautious in the doorway. She thought briefly that he seemed to have excellent timing…he kept showing up when things were getting out of hand…then smiled.

"Sure. What's up?" Tim remained turned away from her for a moment, and she could tell he was trying to get back his composure. To give him time, she tried to engage Bart in conversation. "Where did you disappear to?"

"Hm? Oh. I went to visit my, um, girlfriend." He turned an interesting shade of red as he said this, and Cass tilted her head, intrigued.

"Oh?"

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend, Bart!" Tim entered the conversation in full possession of his emotions. In fact, his comment was laden with the not-so-subtle tone of male-type-teasing…something that often seemed to border on insult, but strengthened friendships. She _really _didn't understand boys.

"Yeah. Her name's Carol. She…we were best friends when I lived in Alabama with Max," Cass figured she was supposed to understand this reference, as Tim obviously did…but she didn't say anything, instead letting him finish his comment. "and then she got sucked to the future and then came back and now we're, um, dating, I guess, but I don't get to see her that often what with Titans on weekends and living in Colorado with Jay."

"That's…nice." Cass wasn't sure what else to say to that rush of information. "But…why go see her _now_?" After all, they _were_ in the middle of a case and… Bart turned red again.

"Well…you two were…um…and I thought I should….and so I left, but didn't know where to go, so…."

"I think we get the picture, Bart." Tim shook his head, but in an amused way. "Sorry we chased you off like that." Bart shrugged, looking from Tim to Cass.

"So…what's the plan, then?" Cass couldn't help but notice Bart was so impatient he almost seemed to be _vibrating_. Tim glanced at her and grinned.

"He is." She stifled a giggle at his accurate reading of her thoughts.

"What? Who is? Is what? What's going _on_!" Bart had done very well up until now, not being in too much of a rush, thinking things through before rushing off…but apparently it had caught up with him and he was once again in full "Impulse" mode.

"Never mind. I guess…" Tim glanced at Cass again, then turned back to Bart. "I guess we're going to call for backup." Cass nearly jumped, she was so surprised. Who…

"Who? When? Should I go get…"

"Slow down, Bart. You don't have to go anywhere. Cass is right. It's time to call for help. So…you call Cassie and Conner and I'll…" how Bart knew he was done listing names, Tim couldn't tell, but he interrupted with,

"What about Beast Boy and Cyborg and Starfire and…" Tim shook his head emphatically.

"No. I want people I can trust. Not that the others _can't_ be trusted, but we were a team long before they restarted the Titans. We know each other better. And…we're friends." Tim shot a look at Cass, and she knew he was going to come clean about _everything_…well, maybe not _everything_…his feelings were buried deeply enough and guys didn't tend to share those to begin with.

"So you call them and I'll…I'll call Batman." At Cass' look of surprise, he added, "I'll need to know what he knows about Warren's artifact, at the very least."

* * *

To be continued… 


	25. Chapter 25

"What?" The voice was deep, menacing. Not sounding exactly amenable to interruption at just that moment. Which, of course, suited its owner just fine, as he _wasn't_ amenable to interruption at just that moment.

"Um…" for a second the voice on the other end was unrecognizable…being higher and slightly squeakier than anyone he would normally receive calls from on this line...but then the owner of _that_ voice took a moment to clear his throat and Batman, upon recognizing his caller, succumbed to a brief spurt of strained irritation, manifested only by a slight tightening of the muscles surrounding his mouth. Even as this expression crossed his face he was running through his options, how to react appropriately with the least damage resulting.

"Where are you?"

"…" He hadn't really thought Robin would answer. After all, he'd gone through too much trouble to escape Gotham without Batman or anyone else's knowledge. And in truth it didn't _really_ matter…Batman knew where he and Batgirl were…or at least where they had been quite recently…Oracle wasn't the only person in Gotham with access to programs monitoring the information highway for any trace of the "family." But Robin's actions _would _have to be dealt with…just…not now.  
"Never mind."

"Uh, sure." Robin cleared his throat again and Batman heard a voice in the background…probably Batgirl…though he couldn't make out the words. And then Robin was all business again. "Batman, I need the information you gathered from Star Labs on the artifact Johnny Warren got away with. I remember you said it was a matter of national security…but what _was_ it? Why was it so important, what did it do, etc…?" Batman grunted. He'd anticipated this…after realizing Warren was the likely suspect. He'd pulled up his notes on the artifact, but they hadn't provided much insight. Star Labs had known the artifact was rumored to convey powers on the owner, but no one knew _what _those powers were. There were a number of theories…but they were so varied as to be pretty much useless.

"I'll transmit my notes to your comm…" they came with the handy option of plugging into any type of computer to print out hard copies of evidence on the road… "but you probably won't get much out of them. Star Labs didn't know what they were dealing with." He tapped in the commands and sent the information to Robin.

"Thanks." Sensing he was about to cut the connection, Batman spoke up.

"Robin, do you and Batgirl need backup?" There was just enough hesitation on the other end for Batman to again get that prickly feeling that they were in over their heads before Robin responded.

"No. We can handle it on our own." There was an edge of defiance in his tone, but, while Batman didn't care for…didn't _tolerate_…insubordination in most forms, he couldn't help but admire Robin's single-minded determination. And Batgirl was there to make sure Robin didn't do anything _too _rash… he just hoped they knew what they were getting into.

"Fine."

"Robin out." Batman didn't bother to reply. He cut the connection and sat silently with his thoughts for a few minutes. He had been in the middle of writing his report on Scarecrow's rampage and subsequent re-incarceration in Arkham. Now…he glanced at the clock. He had a board meeting at eight a.m. tomorrow…it was already five-thirty. Best call it a night.

He changed out of his costume and into a robe, shutting down the cave except for the monitoring equipment and standby-protocols. It didn't take him long to travel up the stairs to the clock-library entrance. Later he would have to blame his preoccupation with Tim and Cassandra's welfare for his break in protocol , but at the moment he simply walked through the passage without checking the room for intruders. He made it about three steps into the room before registering that he was not alone. His momentum carried him another two before he was able to turn and face this unknown threat. And then, before he could prepare himself for attack….

* * *

Tim cursed. He couldn't help it…the conversation with Batman hadn't gone well. He'd thought himself beyond the point of being scared…no, not _scared_, his mind argued…perhaps _intimidated_? Anyway, whatever the proper term, he'd thought he was far _far_ past that point. Yet having, if not in fact, at least in spirit, disobeyed Batman by running off by himself and cutting all communication with any of his agents, Tim found himself reduced to a squeaky-toned quivering mess at the prospect of opening those lines of communications back up again. Because he knew he deserved a set-down, a lecture, perhaps even harsher punishment…hopefully not to the extent of being banned from being Robin, but he wouldn't put it past Him…and he respected Batman far too much to argue with said punishment. Which had left him with the potential of being called back before finishing the mission…one of many reason's he'd hesitated to call.

But he _had _called, and Batman _hadn't_ called him back. In fact, he hadn't said _anything_ which led Tim to feel it was worse than he thought and Bruce was just waiting to rip into him in person.

"You get it?" Tim glanced back at Cassandra. He hadn't really wanted anyone listening in on his conversation, especially someone who could accurately gauge his reactions. But Cass had insisted and he'd long-since given up on fighting her on the little things. He figured he'd have to save his energy for if something _big_ ever came up.

"Yeah. We need a computer, with a printer…preferably not one with a lot of public access." She nodded, but didn't say anything. What was there to say? _She_ didn't know where to find a secure computer. "Maybe if we…"

"Hey R…uh…Tim!" They turned as Bart zipped into the room. "Conner's on his way, he said he'll stop by and collect Cassie…" he cocked his head and glanced at Cass. "Uh-oh, how are we going to tell them apart!" Tim sighed.

"I'm sure we'll figure _something_ out. For example…I usually call Cass _'Cass'_ and Cassie goes by _'Cassie'_ and…am I _really_ having to explain this?" he asked the air in front of him.

"Well _sor-ry_! It was just a question." Bart made a face at Tim's back, then turned to Cass. "Whst now?" Cass hesitated, glancing at Tim. His odd behavior had led Bart to look to her for leadership on this mission, something she wasn't sure Tim would understand. After all, it was _his_ mission. He did stiffen a bit at Bart's apparent defection, but didn't say anything. Cass looked back at Bart.

"I don't know." Which _was_ partly true. She knew they had to find a computer, but she didn't know what else Tim would want done, and she figured they better reestablish him as leader before the others showed up.

"Oh. Tim?" Bart turned hopeful eyes on him. Tim shot Cass a look that said he knew what she was doing, then a thoughtful light came into his eyes.

"You have a computer at home, Bart?" Bart gave him a disgusted look.

"Of _course_!"

"Good. Take this…" he handed him a chip out of his comm. "and plug it into your computer and print everything out. It'll have a window pop up to tell you what to do." Bart took the chip and glanced at it. "It plugs into the USB port and…"

"Okgotitberightback!" And he was gone.

"Well, that solves _that_ problem." Cass nodded silently. The silence stretched into minutes as they waited for Bart's return, neither willing to break it. Cass found herself counting the rivets on the wall to pass the time even as Tim let out a few notes in a nervous whistle that he quickly cut off.

"Sorry." He shot he a sheepish grin and she opened her mouth, not entirely sure what she was going to say, only to be interrupted…_again_…by Bart's sudden entrance. Bart _and_ two others…one with whom she was quite familiar…the other not so much.

"I got it!" Bart held up a thick stack of papers, skidding to a stop. Cass eyed the loose-leaf stack warily.

"You didn't…drop any…did…"

"Hey! Of course not!" His righteous indignation manifested itself in an irritated expression mixed with a touch of kicked-puppy-dog-ishness.

"Of course you didn't." Tim shot Cass a look…not exactly a glare, but a warning. Well how was _she_ to know…he ran so fast, it wasn't out of the question. Her sulk didn't last long … Superboy, Conner…chose that moment, when Tim was busy calming Bart and retrieving his transmitter and data, to greet her.

"Uh…hey." Cass didn't have to have special body-language-reading abilities to recognize the other girl's tentative hostility towards her. So Conner was dating Wonder Girl? Interesting…

"Hey yourself." Her easy answer set him at ease…he was still intimidated by her. She thought she probably should be offended by that but instead only felt amused. He glanced back at Wonder Girl, making a "come here" motion. With one raised eyebrow indicating she was still reserving judgment, she joined him.

"Batgirl, Wonder Girl, Wondy, Batgirl." In typical male fashion he figured this meant his job was done and he left the two of them alone as he went to greet Tim and Bart. Deciding they didn't have time for hostilities, Cass stuck her hand out.

"Cassandra." Wondergirl blinked and looked, if possible, even _more_ suspicious. Oh, _duh._ Cass grinned. Tim and Bart had mentioned "Cassie" when talking about calling in backup. Having recognized the girl with Conner as "Wonder Girl" she hadn't even made the connection that _this _was the Cassie they'd meant. "I mean, 'Hi. I'm Cassandra Cain. Nice to meet you. Call me Cass.'" Cassie gingerly took her hand and Cass shook it vigorously.

"Um. Hi. Weird. I mean, sorry. My name's Cassandra too. Cassandra Sandsmark. My friends call me Cassie." Apparently having decided that Cass wasn't an enemy, Cassie grinned.

"Oh, good. Come on, we're having a 'meeting'." Conner grinned at them and took Cassie's hand in an unconscious gesture. Cass allowed herself a brief wistful smile, then followed, thrilled when Tim fell in beside her.

"You ok?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Why?" She gave him a funny look.

"No reason. You just...I wasn't sure if you and Cassie were going to come to blows or something." She laughed.

"No. She was just…not sure about me and Conner." Tim tried to act nonchalant, but she could tell _something_ about that statement was eating at him. "What?"

"Nothing." But he said it too quickly…covering up…Cass grinned.

"You're not sure either." He shot her an irritated glare as she burst out laughing.

"I…" She held up her hand for silence, still grinning. This whole mess had put a definite road block in her and Tim's relationship…one she hadn't been sure they'd get past. It was good to know that in the midst of all of it he was still jealous. She sobered suddenly. Jealous wasn't good. It might make her feel good for a minute, but it made him feel crappy. She reached a hand out and lay it on his shoulder.

"Tim. Sorry. There's…we're just friends. That's all. Cassie gets it, see?" She nodded towards the couple a few yards in front of them. Tim didn't answer, but his body relaxed…just a bit. There were still too many other problems occupying his mind for him to relax completely.

"Ok guys." They didn't have a conference table or enough chairs, but Bart had rounded up some old crates and Tim and Cass had drug the table he _had_ been using to put the robot together into the room. Now they all sat, waiting for Tim to explain why, exactly, they'd been called in on a moment's notice and without the rest of the Titans included. But Tim's courage had failed him when he looked around at the expectant faces. They thought this was just another mission…how the hell was he supposed to tell them otherwise?

"What gives?" Conner sat forward, a frown creasing his brow as he took in Tim's sudden pallor.

"Tim?" Cassie, too, looked perplexed…and even Bart was eyeing him warily. Cass got a determined light in her eye and he felt a sharp pain in his calf. Shooting a glare at her, Tim managed to keep from wincing, but her kick had shaken him out of his stupor.

"Ok. Um… Right." The three team members not in the know exchanged worried glances. They didn't think they'd ever seen Tim this shaken up.

"Tim, really. What's going on? Are you ok? You're not acting like yourself…" this statement had the three of them wondering about imposters and they tensed accordingly. Cass sighed.

"Don't be stupid. It's Tim." They relaxed, but only slightly.

"Thanks, Cass. I think." He shook himself, then straightened…though his eyes didn't quite meet any of theirs. "To answer your question…I guess I'm not acting myself because I haven't exactly been _feeling _like myself for awhile. Three weeks ago…" he drew in a gulping breath, "…three weeks ago my dad was murdered." He tensed, awaiting the expected onslaught. He wasn't disappointed.

"_What_!"

"Oh, gods, are you ok?"

"What! When?How?Why?Howcomeyoudidn'ttellme?" Tim rubbed his forehead, waiting for their outbursts to subside. When the room grew silent again he risked a peek. Cassie and Bart were in a hushed conversation, but Conner was giving him a funny look. Tim sighed.

"What?" Conner shook his head.

"Wh…I mean, I can't believe you didn't call or something. I mean…" he broke off. Only Tim and he were currently aware of his own paternal issues. Tim had been there for _him_…he would have done anything to help Tim through this… "I mean…you shoulda called," he mumbled.

"You're probably right. But at the time I couldn't…I…" he thought for a second, trying to gather his thoughts. "It wasn't the first thing on my mind." His tone was lightly apologetic and Cassie elbowed Conner in the stomach.

"Of _course_ it wasn't. I'm sure what Conner meant was that we would have been there for you if you needed us." Conner shot her an irritated look.

"That's what I _said_." She just shook her head mutely at him and he cast a pleading look at Tim…who couldn't quite keep his lips from twitching.

"Thanks. Really, I'm…I'm doing ok." Cass refrained from comment…a point she could tell he recognized and was grateful for. "But the reason I called you here today is…I need help catching his killer."

* * *

To be continued… 


	26. Chapter 26

"I don't believe this." Babs shook her head as Dick fell into a laughing fit. She turned to Wally.

"What, that Dick's being a…well…or that his idea seems to actually be working?" Wally shrugged, watching his friend choke when he tried to take a drink while still laughing.

"Probably both…though neither should surprise me." Dick, having recovered from his laughing by being consumed with racking coughs…and then having recovered from _that_, cleared his throat and cornered the two of them with a mock-stern glare.

"Since it would be rude to point out that I told you so, I will refrain, but…"

"Uh-huh."

"Riiight."

"A-_hem _… as I was saying. It's time for phase two." Wally and Babs exchanged a look.

"Um…phase two?" Babs wheeled forward, trying to get a glimpse of the notes Dick had spread out all over her coffee table.

"Well, of course. It's not enough to get their attention." They had dropped off a package at GCPD headquarters, and with Gordon back in charge, it had been taken seriously. A note suggesting the Bat-clan had reason to suspect David Cain had the authorities reviewing the Blackgate security tapes from the night of Jack Drake's murder. They had been proven fakes…the original footage missing.

"No kidding, genius. We got that part. You didn't tell us the details of 'phase two' yet." Wally tapped his foot impatiently.

"You mind not wearing a hole in my carpet?" Babs tried to hold back a laugh, but couldn't keep the humor from her tone. Wally glanced down, then flushed, not having realized he was tapping at superspeed.

"Sorry."

"No problem."

"Excuse me? Great plan? Phase two? Ring a bell?" Dick raised an eyebrow at them and Babs rolled her eyes.

"Ok, smart guy," Babs said with no little sarcasm, "do, _please_, tell us this _great_ plan."

"Simple. They know the tapes were tampered with. So they have more than _our_ suspicion to go on. We make sure every bit of evidence we have makes it's way into the _new-and-improved _investigation that will start."

"Um…one problem. We don't _have_ any evidence…that's the whole point of 'framing' Cain." Dick simply raised one eyebrow, making her sigh. "Ok…what evidence, oh wise and benevolent one?"

"Nothing _too_ obvious, again, he's too good. A few hairs we 'picked up' at the scene that the police overlooked, pointing out that the marks on Jack Drake's body approximately reflect Cain's finger-size, and maybe an eyewitness, scared of reprisal, could be coaxed to report on a figure resembling Cain in the general vicinity near the time of the murder."

"You've been working too hard…it's obviously taken a toll on your brain." Wally teased, shaking his head in disbelief.

"No…he's right. We can't get too detailed. Circumstantial evidence is the most believable in this case." Babs contradicted. "The hairs might even be going a bit too far…though he's only gone in fully covered to prevent such evidence once before." She fell silent and Dick shook his head, remembering Cain's attempt to frame Bruce.

"But…what motive would he have? You _still_ haven't got a case without a motive." Wally started pacing, his patience with the Bat-clan's methods nearing its end.

"Oh, I've taken care of that." Two pairs of eyes turned on her with surprised looks. Babs glanced at them over the rim of her glasses with a "hey, it's me" look in her eye.

"How?" Wally demanded.

"A large quantity of cash was transferred into an offshore account that can be traced back to Cain…with some work, of course. And a rumor has started among the shadier elements of the city about a hit taken out on Jack Drake that…"

"But _why_? What reason would anyone have to…"

"Well if you'd stop _interrupting_ me!" Wally closed his mouth but shot her a belligerent look. "As I was saying, a hit was called on Jack Drake due to an artifact he found years ago that some warlord or mobster or someone thought was worth something."

"So you're framing someone _else._" There was a hint of desperation… tinged with the threat to declare them _both_ crazy and call in backup...in his tone, causing Babs to sigh.

"No we're not. First off, the rumor has multiple 'buyers' so no one will be targeted as the suspect."

"Not that it would be a big loss if they were." Babs cast an exasperated look at Dick.

"You're not helping. Yes, these are scummy people, but we're not going to frame them to get them off the street. That's the easy, lazy way."

"Not to mention not entirely legal." Dick quipped.

"Nothing we do is 'entirely legal'." Babs rubbed her head with a sigh. "Wally, no one's going to be framed except for Cain. There's not enough information in the rumor and the deposit is untraceable. But it's _just_ realistic _enough_…Jack Drake _was_ targeted a few years ago for an artifact some lady thought he'd discovered, purported to give this woman ultimate power. The police have that attempt in their files. They'll buy the premise, Cain killed for money and the buyer went underground. Cain will at least have a stronger security system set up to watch him and there won't be any more risk that Dana will be pointed at again." Finishing her tirade she mutely challenged both men to argue with her.

"I love this woman. Did you know I love this woman? I lo-"

"I get it." Wally shook his head at Dick's goofy grin, but laughed. "Ok, ok. Maybe I jumped the gun a bit. I guess it sounds like a solid plan." At their relaxed expressions, he had to throw in, "_If_ it works. How long you think it'll take?" Dick shrugged, intent on getting Babs to kiss him again.

"Hopefully just a few days, maybe a week or two." Babs managed to get out before letting herself be captured. Wally sighed, reaching for another sandwich. He hated to wait.

* * *

"We need to talk." Bruce relaxed his aggressive stance but remained tense, his demeanor defensive. Tim had told him months ago that Dana knew Robin's identity…and Dana was an intelligent woman. The fact that Bruce Wayne had swooped in and taken over her family after the death of her husband and was apparently already on _very_ good terms with Tim…with no real good connection other than being neighbors for a few years…wouldn't have escaped her attention.

But even having suspected she knew his secret identity hadn't prepared him to be faced down like one of the criminals he routinely intimidated as he exited the cave. And even knowing she hadn't yet revealed her knowledge, nor had any plans to do so as far as he knew…who knew how she may react after the recent events…made him comfortable with her possession of that information. Simply out of habit they had kept Tim's whereabouts from her…partially for her own protection and peace of mind, but more because he didn't want anyone knowing more than was necessary. Barbara and Dick had come up with some story about Tim needing to "get away" for awhile and having gone to visit a friend outside Gotham. Ironically, Alfred had informed him earlier, that story had been supported by Bart Allen who had shown up asking for supplies because he and Tim were going camping.

Bruce supposed he had to give him credit for not blurting out his own secret identity or anyone else's in the presence of a stranger…but the fact that he'd shown up alone and they hadn't heard from Tim about such a trip pretty much blew that cover. Not that Bart knew that…he'd gotten his supplies and left, unaware that a "normal" family would question a young man they'd never met demanding camping supplies for a child they hadn't been informed was _going_ camping.

But all this was really not relevant. The fact was, Dana was an intelligent woman, able to figure out everyone's identities based on their close connections to Tim, probably suspecting she was being lied to, and he couldn't blame her for standing up to someone quite probably responsible for her son's being in danger. Nonetheless, he didn't have time to deal with a temper tantrum at the moment. Refusing to give in to the headache pounding behind his eyes, he raised a brow.

"About?" She didn't falter, but neither did she answer. Instead, she mutely stuck out a hand…one in which was clenched an official-looking paper. Her stance was tense, nervous and Bruce started leaping to some rather obvious conclusions even as he reached to take it. Legal action for endangering a minor? Some kind of restraining order? A… "Social Services?" he glanced at her briefly before returning his gaze to the page, scanning the document.

"I didn't know who else to turn to and I thought…" she fell silent as he held up his hand.

"I was wondering when this would happen." At her somewhat-blank expression he indicated the paper. "You never adopted Tim. Legally you have no claim to him…he's a ward of the state." He managed to keep his expression blank as Dana flinched...flinched as much at her own feelings of guilt as at the thinly veiled disapproval in his tone.

"I…" her chin went up defiantly and his respect for her grudgingly grew a notch. It was a rare person who would stand up to his open disdain, even as Bruce Wayne. If Dana knew he was Batman, as he suspected, she was demonstrating even _more_ courage. "Are you going to help me or not?" she demanded.

"And what, exactly, do you expect me to do?" Her bravado faltered at his cool stare.

"I…you…well, _fix_ it!" she turned away, pacing agitatedly in front of the huge picture windows. "You have connections…don't pretend you don't. You managed to get custody of Dick when he was a ward of the state…even with your reputation, which should have made such a feat impossible. A young bachelor, seemingly a playboy…what use would _he_ have for a child?" He narrowed his eyes, not caring for her tone. "But you did it anyway. So fix _this_!" She turned on him, eyes flashing. "I just lost my husband. I will _not_ lose my son too!" Then, as if her fiery tirade had broken down every last wall, she burst into tears. Bruce watched her for a second, feeling vaguely helpless…he had little or no experience in comforting. He collected himself and reached out to lay a hand gently on her arm, pushing her to an oversized chair.

"Please, sit." She did so, taking the handkerchief he held out with his other hand. He sat back, uncomfortable. He didn't know Dana Drake well, but she had seemed to be a good influence in Tim's life, and a good mother to him. He hadn't any legitimate reason to snap at her for not adopting Tim. Lots of step-parents didn't go through with it and it didn't mean they loved the children less.

"I wanted to." She raised her head, taking a deep breath and drying her eyes. "At first…it seemed too soon. And when I brought it up with Jack later…well he was having trouble with Tim at the time…we sent him to Brentwood and…and then when we lost so much of the money…" she shuddered. "Jack…went away. He locked himself away in some kind of self-punishing bout of depression, strongly tied to his loss of Cathy.," she broke off.

"Dana, I didn't mea…"

"No. Let me finish. I just…I wanted you to know. I _wanted_ to adopt Tim. I consider him my son." Her chin was back at a defiant angle. "But the timing never was right for Jack. I don't know if he just didn't like the idea and found excuses…or if it really was just timing. But now they're going to take him away. I know I've been mostly cleared, but the state won't want a kid left with a suspected murderer." No, they'd just stick him in a foster home, if he was lucky, full of strangers or, if he wasn't, possibly worse than the situation he was already in.

"Again. What do you want me to do?" This time it was said softly, without the hostility he'd expressed previously. She blinked back the remainder of her tears.

"I don't know. I don't. Like I said, they don't want him with me. At least not until they are satisfied my name's cleared. If you could just…I don't know. If you had him stay with _you_…I mean."

"Actually, I'd already taken steps to…well. That arrangement would work temporarily. But he needs something more permanent."

"After I'm cleared…" he shook his head.

"There's no guarantee that we'll be able to completely do that. We're working on catching the true murderer, but he has a pretty airtight alibi." At her questioning look, he clarified grimly, "he's in Blackgate prison. Under heavy guard. _We_ know he did it…but the evidence…"

"Then what do you suggest?" He looked away, his demeanor dark.

"As I said, I'd already taken steps in case this happened."

"_What_ steps?" He allowed himself a small smile at her impatience, but sobered quickly.

"It would really be up to Tim…I don't want to…" he cleared his throat. He was Batman…he didn't vacillate. "Adoption."

"You mean…_you_ would…" he gave her a curt nod. She fell silent…he could tell the idea disturbed her.

"As I said, it would ultimately be up to Tim. I wouldn't presume to…I don't want to take his father's place." She nodded, stood.

"Well, since he's not around at the moment to _ask_…" her sarcasm let him know she definitely was aware she'd been lied to regarding Tim's whereabouts…but she wasn't going to argue…too much.

"Don't worry. He'll be put in my care at least for the time being…until things can be straightened out. We have time to arrange the permanent conditions."

* * *

To Be Continued…. 


	27. Chapter 27

The room was dark. Empty. As large and cavernous as it was, the slightest sound would carry, yet it was silent. Cass shook her head and turned to leave but hesitated at a slight rustle. Glad to see her instincts had been right, she strode purposefully into the room, rounding a stack of crates and coming to stop a few inches from the toe of a dark boot.

"_What_ are you doing?" she asked with an aggravated sigh. The penlight currently focused on a stack of papers shifted, illuminating her irritated expression. Tim bit back a groan.

"I'm reading all the info on…"

"Hiding?" She interrupted. He glared at her, though she wouldn't be able to see in the dark.

"_No_. I'm reading the information we have on Johnny Warren."

"Looks like you're hiding." He dropped his hand to his side, plunging them back into darkness.

"Well, I'm sorry it looks that way, but I'm…"

"Reading." He had a brief inclination to strangle her, but refrained himself admirably.

"Well I _am._ I can't concentrate with everyone interrupting me all the time." He said pointedly. If she reacted, he couldn't tell. With a sigh, he hit the switch to the lights. They both winced at the sudden brightness. Cass stood over him, her hands folded across her chest.

"I still say you're hiding."

"Oh for…" He bit out. "Cass, can't I do research without interruption?" She cocked her head to the side.

"No. You called your friends in. Now you won't let them help. Conner wants to break something, Wond…um, Cassie is just confused, and Bart is still hurt because you didn't tell him all this time. They need something to do, but you came here to 'do research' alone." Tim dropped his head into his hand.

"Well…I don't have anything for them to do. I don't even know what we're up against. What was I thinking, calling them in without…"

"You were thinking we need help. And they were the best choice. And they _are_. Let them help. Explain your theories, your questions. Maybe it will help to have a brain-flood."

"Brainstorm" he corrected absently, glancing up suspiciously when she choked back a giggle. "You did that on purpose" he accused.

"Worked." He reluctantly nodded.

"Ok." She helped him to his feet and watched him as he gathered his sheets of data and reports. "I just…" she gave him a shove towards the door and he went, casting a scowl back at her and muttering under his breath.

The room the other Titans had holed up in was just as large, just as echoing, but much more inviting. The lights were all on, for one thing, and someone had done some shopping, as the crates now had old, soft-looking cushions covering them and there were fast-food wrappers littering the table. And someone had set up a whole computer system…judging from the number of games visible just as desktop icons, he suspected Bart had grabbed his from home and set it up. It really did show some good initiative...

"Tim!" Cassie glanced up from where she was writing in a little notebook. Conner and Bart looked over from an argument they were having, but didn't comment. Tim shook his head at the changes…he'd only been gone an hour or so. He indicated the table and his friends gathered around, eager to get started.

"So? What's the plan?" He'd already explained the situation to them, before taking off to research…or hide, he admitted to himself.

"Well…there isn't one."

"What? Whatdyamean?" Bart scowled at the stack of papers Tim held in his hands. "You've been gone a _week_…"

"Hour." Bart looked petulantly at Cass as she interrupted.

"Same thing," he muttered. "You gotta know _something_." Tim shook his head.

"Not really. There's not much information about the artifact that gave Johnny his powers. There are a few theories…" he rifled through the stack, "um…one about it being some kind of ancient weapon…shooting lightning or something. Here's one about the possibility of it being a Kryptonian artifact, providing superpowers like Superman's…oh wait, that one was discounted. Most of the other experts were simply baffled. And, oh. This one suggests a link to the underworld."

"Underworld?" Cass looked over his shoulder, trying to see the papers he held, even though she knew she wouldn't be able to read them fast enough to make any sense of them.

"Yeah, you know. Hell, death, demons, devils, cre…"

"Demons!" She straightened and shot a glare at Bart.

"What?"

"You said it was an expression!" He blinked, trying to remember what she was talking about.

"Ummmmm….oh, yeah. Well, it _is_." Seeing the others' faces turned towards him inquiringly he insisted again, "It _is_!"

"No one's arguing with you, Bart," Tim held up a hand to ward off Cass' disagreement. "But what, exactly, are you talking about?"

"The people here said Warren's 'cursed by a demon' and _he_ said it was just an expression." Cass accused.

"It _IS_!" he insisted again.

"Okok. Calm down, both of you. Cass, Bart's right…it is an expression. But you may have hit on something there." He frowned.

"Well? What're you waiting for? Let's go kick some demon butt!" Tim smiled at Conner's enthusiasm, but shook his head.

"No. I was just thinking… if his powers _do_ come from a demon, we probably need to get Raven in on this." He sighed… one more person he'd have to face…and one who sensed emotions, too.

"Ok. So we call her up and _then_ go kick…"

"Conner." Cassie lay a warning hand on his shoulder. He quieted, but a disgruntled look remained on his face. They all remained silent for a few minutes, the only sound Bart's toe tapping the floor absently.

"So…..we gonna call Raven or what?" It was, predictably, Bart who broke the silence. Tim looke up, blinking. He'd gotten lost in his own thoughts and had forgotten they were all still waiting for his grand plan.

"Uh…oh. Yeah, sure. Go ahead." No big. It was just his life. His…

"What will we do when she gets here?" Cass interrupted his thoughts. Getting irritating, that, he thought. Then again, he knew nothing would get done if he kept zoning out and having mood swings.

"I don't know. Probably the first thing is find out if she can tell us if he really _is_ getting his powers from some kind of demon. Then, if so, what her take on defeating him would be. I'm not exactly an expert on demonology, are you?" He asked the room at large, mostly as a rhetorical question, but half hoping some of them knew something he didn't. When they all shook their heads, he nodded. "Didn't think so."

"Ok, but, Tim…" Conner frowned, trying, for once and in his own way, to be diplomatic… "you've, we _all_ have, tangled with 'otherworldy' things before. What's the big deal? What are we waiting for on this one? I mean, why do we have to wait on Raven?"

"Because this one holds a great and evil power." They all jumped as a dark shadow materialized in their midst, rising above them and then dissipating to reveal Raven.

"That was fast." Cassie muttered. No one else said anything…they were too busy watching Tim's reaction to the new arrival. It was as if they were having some kind of uber-staring contest. Tim, surprisingly, broke first. Sensing Tim's discomfort, Cass bristled and turned on Raven, only to find herself awash in memories…ones she'd just as soon forget.

"I'm sorry!" Raven started forward, he hand out, but stopped at Cass' glare. "I didn't mean…I'm afraid sometimes I can't quite control my own powers…especially in the face of strong emotions." Cass maintained her glower for a moment but grudgingly relented as she could tell Raven _was_ sorry for inciting the rush of emotion and memory. Not to mention, Tim seemed to think she could be the to defeating Warren.

The others had observed this strange byplay in nervous silence. Unable to remain so any longer, Bart burst out, "All right, already! Come on, tell us what you meant, 'a great and evil power'! And what you think we should do to stop him." The tension eased and they all looked to Raven hopefully.

"Well…" she began.

"Robin." There were very few beings, counting some of the worst villains on Earth and beyond, who had the power to drain the blood out of the faces of each of the Titans at once. Tim sighed, rolling his eyes at his teammates' expression as he pulled out his commlink.

"Yeah?" The slight pause on the other end indicated that Batman hadn't appreciated his short tone and Tim figured he'd pay for it later.

"You're needed in Gotham. Now." When Batman used _that_ tone, one _didn't_ argue.

"Sorry, I'm working on something right now." Tim shook his head as Conner nearly had a heart attack at this apparent disregard for his own life. There was a long pause, then…

"This isn't negotiable. You can return to your case shortly. Have Kid Flash get you here. _Now_." Even Tim realized it wasn't wise to push his luck when Batman used _two_ emphases. He cut the connection with a sharp jab, then turned to his friends.

"I guess I better go. Raven…" he swallowed bitterness, "tell them what they need to know. Hopefully I'll…I'll be back soon enough." Soon enough to actually confront his father's killer, to not simply have delegated the task to his friends. Cass lay a restraining hand on his shoulder, a worried frown marring her brow. "Ahem…anyway. Cass, watch over things here, will you?" He said this last softly, for her ears only, though he knew Conner could hear and would probably take offense. Yet no protest was made, and Cass nodded once, her eyes still troubled. "Bart?" The other boy flicked a look between Tim and the rest of the team, then shrugged. An instant later, they were gone.

* * *

"If we _were_ being honest, we wouldn't _be_ here now." Barbara tightened her grip on the steering wheel. It was cumbersome for her to drive, and usually when she was with others, such as Dick or Bruce or Dinah, she relaxed her "don't want to be pushed" attitude and let them take the wheel. Not to mention, they were usually using _their_ vehicles, not hers. But tonight Dick only had his 'cycle, and she was in the mood to be in control…even if it was only the car she was controlling.

"Of course we would." Dick shot her a look…she looked as if she wanted to run someone off the road, and the tone in her voice as she answered his previous statement only lent credence to that idea. Their argument had lasted all the way from the Clock Tower to the outskirts of Gotham…which meant they only had a few more miles in which to wrap it up.

"Oh, come on, we would not!"

"Just because we've left a few minor details out of recent conversations with Bruce doesn't mean we _aren't_ being honest! And…" she paused to wait for him to finish his disbelieving grunt. "_And_ even if it did, we would still be here because you know as well as I do that when he calls we come. Just like little trained monkeys," she added under her breath.

"Yes, but who's to say he _would_ have called had he known the truth?" Dick tried not to grip the armrest too tightly as she took the curve to the entrance to the Manor's drive at full speed. They came to a sudden stop, which would have had the satisfying effect of a gravel spray had the drive been lined with gravel. Instead, she had to settle for a bit of a squeal and the satisfaction of Dick looking rather green.

"I'm to say," she retorted. Dick shot her a disbelieving look. "Come on. You know him as well as I do. He knows what's going on. I may be the 'all knowing-all seeing yadda yadda yadda' but no one…_no_ one…comes close to _him_ on the information market. Therefore, he _would_ call us if he knew what was going on, because he does know and he did call." Feeling satisfied that she had made her point, she moved to open her door and exit.

"Yeah, except you left out the part where _he_ chews us out royally when he calls for what we're doing." Babs sighed.

"Well…"

"Actually, that's probably why we _are_ here now." He glowered at the Manor.

"Thank you, Mr. Optimistic." It took her a while to get herself completely free and by the time she reached solid ground Dick had rounded the vehicle and was standing by…well, leaning against…the car, waiting for her. "On the other hand, did it never occur to you that he may _not_ disapprove of 'framing' David Cain?" Dick appeared to consider this for a second.

"Nope." Well, there went _that_ theory. "Come on, Babs. You know as well as I do that he disapproves of _everything_, even the things he approves of!" Babs simply raised her eyebrow and headed towards the front door.

"On that completely intelligible note…" Alfred opened the door before she'd even reached it.

"Good afternoon, Miss Barbara, Master Richard."

"Afternoon."

"Hey Alfred." They exchanged greetings as they entered the front hall. Alfred, for his part, _seemed _happy to see them, maybe they weren't in any trouble after all. Dick began to relax as Alfred led them to the library. Then he saw the suits.

"Well, crap."

* * *

To be continued… 


	28. Chapter 28

The small warehouse was silent. No one viewing it from the outside would suspect that a small team of teen-aged superheroes had hidden out inside it all day. Now the sun had set and even those who enjoyed night-life were heading for their beds. Two figures stood in the shadows outside the warehouse, watching and waiting. And to an observer, they might have been a mirage, for even as one turned to murmur something to the other, they both vanished. Or so it would appear.

Tim pressed back against the corner of the building, allowing the shadows to swallow him. Bart had, obligingly, brought him back to Cairo after the mess in Gotham had been cleared up. Well, most of the mess. He still wasn't… movement caught his attention and he froze, willing whoever it was to show themselves. After several tense moments he relaxed somewhat. Maybe he'd imagined it…or it had been a bird or something. Whatever the case, he still seemed to be alone.

He'd told Bart not to tell anyone he was back yet. Bart had informed him on the way over that they were all still waiting for him before going after Johnny Warren. Tim was grateful, but figured they could use their sleep, and had told Bart to go on without him for the moment. He needed some time to process everything he'd seen and heard in the past few hours. Movement at the peripheral edge of his vision flickered again, and he eased a batarang from his belt. Something definitely wasn't right here.

"Hey." He whirled, batarang flying from his hand before he'd consciously decided to throw it. Luckily, she was faster. He relaxed as Cass stepped out of the shadows holding his batarang gingerly. "Lose something?"

"Sorry. You should have told me it was you." She shrugged, apparently unconcerned. Well, of _course_ she was…she would have known he was going to attack and been prepared for it. Still…

"Sorry." She cocked her head to the side, studying him. "So?"

"So what?" he snapped, then winced. Good going, Tim. Might as well just shout to the world that something big was going down. To her credit, Cass didn't seem to take offense…not that he was sure he'd be able to tell if she did. "Sorry." He ran a hand through his hair. "Can we just…like…not go into this right now? I mean…"

"Raven told us about Warren." Grateful that she was apparently willing to change the subject, he relaxed.

"Oh?" She nodded, leaning back against the wall next to him.

"Yeah, but we decided to wait to get your take on it before making a plan."

"Yeah, that's what Bart said." They fell silent again, except for the slight tapping sound made by Tim's finger drumming nervously against the wall.

"So……What did Raven say about him?"

"He's got a demon in him." Tim shot her an exasperated look, only to meet her laughing eyes. "Kidding! It's some kind of par…parasite. It feeds off of him and gives him powers."

"And it's worse than the average demon?" he asked wryly? She shook her head, taking him seriously.

"No…don't think so. She said…the demon isn't _more_ powerful than others, though he _is_ powerful. That's the 'great' part of his power." Tim considered, rewinding the day's events in his mind to remember the exact phrase Raven had used.

"And the evil?"

"That's him. She said he's crazy. Like…she said it was like giving Joker superpowers." Tim shuddered. He himself had once observed of Warren that he was capable of being one of the worst if he ever got the chance. But…

"He wasn't crazy. That was what made him so dangerous…it was all cold calculation." Tim thought for another second. "He isn't like the themed criminals we might face in Gotham…with or without powers. He won't hesitate to kill…won't set up some elaborate trap or go on monologuing about why he was the one who was destined to do-in Batman or Robin or whatever." But even as he said it he recalled the way the man's eyes had seemed to gleam…how he _had_ gone on about killing Robin even as he smashed Spoiler's bones. Cass, for once oblivious to his inner thoughts, shrugged.

"Well…crazy now, I guess. She said it's hard to sense a weakness in him."

"Great."

"So…you got a plan yet?" She sounded so hopeful, he glanced sharply in her direction. She grinned, implying it was another joke, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Tim felt a sting of guilt for dragging her into all of this…and for the strain it had placed on their budding relationship.

"Oh, yeah" he said lightly, pretending he hadn't noted the shadows in her eyes. "I figure it'll be a snap…we go in, cover him with silly string, and he won't be able to get out, so he'll be trapped and Raven can extract the demon." She giggled, but Tim's expression darkened.

"What?"

"Something…something tickling at the back of my mind. I'll have to think about it." So saying, he moved away distractedly. It would be dawn soon and the others would be wanting to plan. Cass wondered briefly if she should try to convince him to get some sleep, but discarded that idea as unrealistic. She shrugged to herself and followed him in.

It wasn't until Tim's spine stiffened and he stopped dead in his tracks that Cass remembered the _other _reason she had waited for him outside.

"Um…" he turned on her as she started to speak, his eyes flashing with irritation and…betrayal? She gulped and hoped she was wrong about that.

"I believe you...Bart , too, come to think of it…said you'd _waited_ for me?" His voice was quiet, cold. Cass peered over his shoulder, trying to see what had set him off. Conner was sitting on a table apparently being patched up by Cassie…even as she saw this, he jumped off and headed their way.

"Uh, well…we _kinda _did." At his raised brow, she shrugged. "Superboy wanted to go do rec…recona…"

"Reconnaissance?"

"Yeah! But, um…_he_ found out about it and…" Tim rolled his eyes at that obvious understatement but, seeing as the subject was making her uncomfortable, he let it drop. Better to take it up with Conner, anyway…and he himself knew how hard it could be to turn Conner off a chosen path.

"Uh…hey Tim." Speaking of… Tim turned to face his friend. Even though he was annoyed that Conner had taken off on what Tim considered _his_ mission, he took a second to look him up and down, assessing his wounds. Seeing as how injuries were a rare thing for Superboy, the fact that he'd sustained any at all spoke volumes…and they weren't minor either. Neither were they life-threatening. Having determined his friend was in no immediate danger…at least not from his wounds…Tim figured he could let him have it.

"I hope you learned your lesson," he said, in just that superior tone guaranteed to get Conner's back up.

"What! Lesson! I'll give _you_ a lesson…what's you're problem?" Conner shook off the restraining hand Cassie had placed on his shoulder, flicking a glance her way. "What? He asks us here and now he's going to go all Bat on me? I don't think…"

"That's the problem, you _didn't_ think."

"Well I…" he broke off at Cass's snort of laughter and turned on this new irritation. Before he could say anything, though, she grinned at him.

"Is a joke." He frowned and looked back to Tim, who shrugged, scowling at Cass for ruining his fun. Understanding lit Conner's face.

"What? You…you're not…ha ha, very funny." Conner shook his head and elbowed Tim, who had to crack a smile at Cass's giggles. Cassie, on the other hand, rolled her eyes and stalked off, muttering something unflattering about the male species in general.

"Listen, I just wanted to let you know…we weren't…I mean, we weren't going after him without you. We just figured…ok _I_ figured if we got more information on him for you, you could come up with one of those brilliant plans of yours."

"Yeah, I guess I figured that out when Cass said you were out on recon. But still…" he sighed and shrugged it off. This wasn't the time for irritation or squabbles between teammates. "So, did you find anything out?"

"Not really. That demon-thing sensed us, I think. And you know…me and magic don't mix so well…" he indicated his injuries, which were already starting to heal, thanks to his strange physiology.

"Was anyone else hurt?" Conner seemed almost offended by the question, though Tim couldn't see why he would be.

"Of course not!"

"What 'of course'? It's a valid question!"

"Yeah, but…" Conner thought for a second. "Oh. Guess I forgot that part. Um…"

"You went alone." It wasn't a question, and came out sounding much more like Batman than Tim would admit, even to himself.

"Well…"

"Come _on_, how stupid can you get! You said yourself, you and magic don't mix! Con…"

"Well first, I didn't figure he'd find _out_ about it! And I wasn't…exactly…alone." Tim narrowed his eyes.

"Define _exactly._"

"Well…I didn't tell anyone what I was going to do…but Raven figured it out and kinda, I don't know…tagged along." Tim glanced around.

"Where _is_ Raven?" Cassie and Bart were doing _something_ with paper…it sort-of looked like Bart was showing her how to make origami figures…_why_, was a whole other matter he wasn't willing to wrestle with at the moment…over in one corner of the room. Cass was still watching Tim and Conner's altercation with interest.

"I think she went off to meditate…recuperate." Tim's glower at this information had him hastening to add, "I don't think she was hurt…not physically like me or…or anything. She just…I got the impression she just needed to regain energy. Actually, I think tagging along in my head without my knowing took more out of her than her interaction with Warren." He said this with a ironic twist to his mouth, sobering when Tim turned as if to go after Raven.

"Fine."

"Wait! Um, I wouldn't…geeze, Tim, you don't go walking in on Raven when she's meditating!" Tim lifted a sardonic eyebrow, silently reminding Conner who it was Tim worked with on a nightly basis. "Oh-kay, maybe _you_ do." He watched Tim stride away and sighed.

* * *

"A few weeks ago we brought you a story on the death of amateur archaeologist, Jack Drake. Tonight we have learned about a surprising twist in the ongoing inquiry. Sources close to the investigation…"

"Shut that crap off." Barbara did so, flicking a bemused glance in Dick's direction. He scowled at the television for a few seconds after the picture had blanked and the noise faded.

"Ummm…don't get me wrong, but isn't this what you were _planning_ on?" Wally kicked his feet up, wondering if provoking Dick was really the most intelligent thing to do at the moment. When Dick and Barbara had suddenly been called to Wayne Manor, he had taken the opportunity to do a few quick run-throughs of Keystone and Central Cities. Then, having enough time after foiling a bank-robbery, six muggings, and saving eighteen people from various accidents, he circled the globe a couple times looking for anyone needing aid and then back home to catch up on various things he'd neglected over the past few days. Now they were back in Babs' apartment, and _something_ had put Dick in an exceptionally foul mood. Even Babs seemed bit shaken, but neither of them was willing to share what had occurred.

In truth, Wally wasn't entirely sure why he was here… after all, his part of the plan had been carried out, with apparent success. But…Dick _was_ his best friend, and there was still something bothering him. So when Dick had called him when they were on the way back from whatever meeting had gone on in the Manor, Wally had zipped on over.

"It was…is." Babs answered Wally's question as Dick continued to sulk.

"Then what's the problem?" _In for a penny_…Wally thought. Dick sighed, running his hand through his hair.

"I just hadn't counted on it being plastered all over the media like some…I mean, hasn't the kid gone through enough? At least Tim's out of the country, so he's not being reminded…but…it's the _principle_, damn it! Reporters don't care whose lives they destroy as long as they have a juicy story." He threw his hands in the air and paced to the window, staring out in silence. Wally started to point out that they were all personally acquainted with at least two reporters who didn't fit that mold, but figured Dick was allowed to vent, and that the majority of the press did have that penchant.

"But…this is still good news, right? I mean, not that they're re-hashing it all over again, but they've figured out Cain was the one who…"

"It seems so. Nothing's official, yet." Babs shook her head. "It probably won't ever be absolutely proven, but Dana's been completely cleared of suspicion." Wally nodded absently. There was something there…in her voice…still some issue with Dana or Tim or something, but he wisely didn't pry.

"So…you guys need help with anything else? Maybe a little extortion, or perhaps some good, old-fashioned grand theft…"

"Ha. Ha." Babs smiled at his lighthearted jab.

"No, I think you've done enough." Even Dick turned back from the window and shook his head at him, a humorous light in his eye.

"Any time." With one more grin, he was gone.

"Well, that was smooth." Babs wheeled over to the table where bits at pieces still remained from their tape-doctoring endeavors. She began cleaning it up, wondering when Dick would come out of his own thoughts."

"Hmm…." Dick shrugged, and reached out to help, only to have his hand slapped back.

"I've got it." She sighed. "If you want to be useful, go order some takeout or something. I'm starving." Things had been too tense, too confused…and too brief for them to have indulged in Alfred's cooking during their short visit to the manor. Emotions had run high, with more than a few outbursts. And once things had been more or less resolved, no one had been willing to stick around.

Tim had called Bart and escaped back to Cairo. Dick had almost forcefully drug her back out to the car, making excuses. He and Bruce were getting along better these days, but not so well that they could handle such circumstances in a wholly civilized manner.

"Fine." He stalked towards the kitchen phone, and Babs rubbed her eyes, trying to stave off the beginnings of a migraine. The legal issues had been resolved, but who was this whole mess going to end up doing to the Family? Glancing back at the kitchen she wheeled towards her inner sanctum. She'd managed to slip a micro-transmitter onto Tim's skin, just at the nape of the neck, when she'd coerced him into a hug, earlier. It would stay attached…providing he didn't discover and deactivate it…until she told it to release. It would transmit Tim's location and vital signs…just in case. The Titans were a good team, but she preferred to be more intimately involved…not sit at home and wait for news. If her readings indicated he needed more than the Titans as back-up…well, she had the whole Justice League on speed-dial. She wasn't going to sit this fight out.

* * *

To be continued… 


	29. Chapter 29

Tim knew Conner was probably right about not disturbing Raven, but that fact alone made him reckless enough to ignore common sense. He told himself he'd seen horrors…heck, he worked with _Batman_, who scared most people, including Conner, senseless. _Yeah, that's it,_ he thought. Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand to knock on the door to the office Raven had commandeered as a meditation space. Before his knuckles even connected, the door swung open. Raven raised an eyebrow at him and gestured for him to enter. He did so, noting the incense and candles still burning.

"You ok?" He asked, turning to eye her critically. She was even paler than usual but, at his question, she narrowed her eyes, face flushing with barely suppressed irritation.

"I could ask you the same question." Tim shrugged. He'd known she would sense his inner turmoil, and had decided before he'd even sought her out that it was just something he'd have to accept.

"I'm fine." He lied. "Conner seemed to think _you_ were pretty shaken up, though." She averted her eyes.

"I'm not going to apologize." When he said nothing, she continued, "he shouldn't have gone off on his own. It was a chance to find out more information about Johnny Warren's demon." She told herself to stop babbling.

"I'm not arguing with you, Raven." At her dubious look, Tim sighed. "I agree, Conner's actions were rash…as were yours…but I can see where both of you were coming from. The important thing now is making sure you're ok, and to use any information you managed to gather to prevent him from having the upper hand again." She nodded thoughtfully.

"You want the full version, or the synopsis?"

"I would probably get more out of the full version, but since everyone else is going to want to hear about it as well, we'll save it. Just the basics."

"Fine. Basics…he's strong. _Very_ strong. The demon is, I mean. Warren is…well, I'm not sure if he was unstable before being possessed, but…"

"He wasn't." She raised a brow at his curt interruption and confident certainty.

"Then something has happened since you last encountered him, because he is _definitely_ unstable now. His mind is so warped…"

"Gee, ya think it could be having a demon living inside his head?"

"Possible. But this is a powerful and _intelligent_ being we're talking about. The demon would not possess a body it needs in a way that's going to weaken it…and therefore himself."

"You're saying this…mental illness is caused by something else…something that could be used as a weakness?" She nodded, opening her mouth to continue, but Tim had turned away, muttering to himself. "But what's causing it?"

"I don't know. The demon sensed me before I could dig deep enough. Possibly it really is simply the fact that the demon has possessed him…the human mind is not made to take such stress. Perhaps that was just the last…or first… straw in a chain leading up to this condition. But as a weakness, it's useless to us unless we know what lies behind it." Tim nodded.

"So…we get you close again. Now that you know what you're looking for…use the rest of the team as distractions. Keep hitting him from all sides…don't give Warren or the demon time to notice you."

"That could work, but…" she broke off, sensing Tim wasn't listening, but rather making plans. She sighed. Her objections would have fallen on deaf ears anyway…Titans stuck together, regardless of the danger.

* * *

It wouldn't appear to the average observer that the attack had taken over three hours to plan. All anyone…anyone not fleeing the scene in terror, that is…would see would be Superboy flying in and attacking Warren for no apparent reason. Wonder Girl came from the back of the run down bar they found him in…Kid Flash vibrating down through the roof, landing a couple nice blows to Warren's head as he landed. Raven, hidden within the shadows, waited for the team to attract enough of Warren's attention to allow her to sneak into his thoughts. And Batgirl...under much protest…also stood back, watching Warren's every move.

Robin had planned it all out, to the tiniest detail. The one thing he _hadn't_ planned on was being turned on by his own team. They had been unanimous…Robin wasn't to come near the site…not this time. Their arguments had been well-thought-out…Tim didn't have powers….he had already nearly been fried by Warren once…he would be their ace in the pocket. All logical. And all completely and totally useless.

Tim gave them credit…but he wasn't about to be kept from apprehending his father's killer. And what if they found Warren's weakness during the fight and could exploit it? They wouldn't just let him go…get Tim…and come _back_ to finish the job! No. This had all started with _him_. Robin would be part of the mission.

As he watched his team methodically attacking Johnny Warren, Robin mentally ran the plan through his head. He was waiting…watching, much like Batgirl and Raven. But he wasn't gathering data…not consciously, at least. True, his training was so deeply ingrained that he instinctively picked up on little cues…things Warren did. Such as always faking left before lashing out with a kick. Or the slight twitch of his right eye just before he let his power loose.

Which he wasn't doing as often as Robin would have thought. Narrowing his eyes, he watched him lash out with the golden energy at Superboy only to have Kid Flash zoom in and catch him in a cross wind, spinning him and messing up his aim. Then again, considering what happened last time Robin had run into him…Robin suspected that the Demon, as powerful as he was, had a limited amount of power. That was why Warren had seemed to have been sucked dry…dead…last time. He'd learned from that encounter and was trying to fight back without using more energy than he absolutely had to. Another flash lanced out…he was weakening. Robin leaned forward…was this it?

Deciding it was time to make his appearance, he dropped nimbly down from the rafter he'd been crouched on, landing in such a way to draw attention to himself. He wanted Warren to know why he was under attack and who it was who would ultimately defeat him.

"Robin." The name hissed out from between suddenly clenched teeth. The assassin had told him Robin was dead…_had_ to be dead. He had let himself be convinced that the reports of Robin's continued presence in Gotham was as everyone said…a replacement. Someone new.

"Warren. Seems you and I have some unfinished business." There was a cold fire burning in the pit of his stomach. For an instant he saw Warren's body lying lifeless on the floor…recognized the scene from his own home when he'd walked in and found his father. Shaking the image…he didn't have time for memories and revenge had no place here… he drew out his bo staff. Warren shot him a brief sneer…the other Titans holding back for the moment, waiting.

Taking a deep breath, Robin made the first move…moving faster than even _he_ thoughtpossible, he pushed off with his staff, lashing out with his foot. He connected solidly with Warren's head, sending the other man flying. Warren picked himself up and shot bolts of energy in Robin's direction. Since he was expecting it this time, Robin managed to dodge… just barely. As he came back for another round he noticed Warren muttering to himself. He had done that before, Robin remembered. Talking to his demon.

Warren turned, ripping a table from the floor with his powers and heaving it at Robin. He missed, but the table went through the wall, causing them to buckle threateningly. The resulting cave-in kept Robin and the Titans busy getting the few remaining bystanders out of the way and when the dust had cleared Warren was gone.

"Come on…" Robin tried to wade through the rubble, chasing after Warren, but Superboy's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Let him go. We got what we need." Robin glanced over to where Batgirl and Raven had been concealed. They were out in the open now, and Batgirl gave a brief nod at his inquiring glance, but still he resisted a moment more. He'd _had_ Warren…they should finish the job _now_. Reason…and the fact that he was sounding a bit too much like Kid Flash inside his own head…finally won out. After all, they'd come on a fact-finding mission…building their groundwork to take Warren out in the final battle. If they'd managed to defeat him in the process, great. Since they _hadn't_…

"Right. Let's regroup."

* * *

They gathered around the table in the warehouse, again using crates and boxes as chairs. Tim gave a brief but heartfelt wish that they were back in Titans Tower with a full conference room complete with table, chairs, computers, displays…everything they really needed. But, since they _weren't_ back in Titan's Tower…they'd make do.

He kept his face impassive even as he mentally grimaced as he catalogued his teammates' various injuries. They would deny it, he was sure, but he knew he was responsible…he caught Cass looking at him with a funny expression and cleared his throat, deciding he'd better deflect her attention before she drew attention to his guilt.

"Ok. So….impressions?" All eyes turned his way, like a class full of students looking to the teacher for direction. No one said a word. He sighed. "Anything? Come on, guys… Raven?" His teammates collectively switched their gaze towards Raven, who flicked her own attention to Cass. Correctly interpreting this as having been elected to point out the conclusion both she and Raven had come to, she drew a deep breath and looked Tim straight in the eye.

"It's you."

"Huh?" Tim was pretty sure the word had come from his mouth, though he'd also heard a few other voices chiming in…everyone was looking equally perplexed.

"His weakness." Cass elaborated helpfully. "It's…_you_. Um…well, Robin, I guess."

"He's got some kind of mental block set up around you." Raven chimed in. "When you appeared he…panicked. Warren, not the demon. The demon seemed irritated, but not frightened or anything. But Warren…something about you being invincible or something and not being fair."

Tim nodded absently. It didn't make _sense_. Warren had all these incredible powers and he was frightened of...of…_Robin_? But…an image popped into his mind…the last time he'd encountered Warren…Warren's body lying in pieces on the pavement. Of course, now they knew he hadn't been dead but…

"I defeated him."

"Hm?" The team had been chattering amongst themselves, trying to make sense of this new development as well.

"Before. Before he got power. And after. And…" he frowned. "He'd hired an assassin. She might have told him I was dead…and Ste…Spoiler took over the costume for a while. He thought I was dead but I'm not and even though it was his own power weakening him before he's got it into his head that I am some kind of unbeatable foe." The words just rushed out, almost faster than he thought of them. He glanced at Raven for confirmation of his theory. She nodded.

"That's kind of the impression I got."  
"So, what's the deal? He can't fight you, mind more powerful than the body, yadda yadda, so just go get him." Conner leaned back, forgetting he wasn't in a chair and nearly fell off his crate.

"It's not that simple." Tim shook his head. "I mean, yeah, maybe his mental block would have that affect, but maybe he's just running scared. And a cornered animal will fight _twice_ as hard to escape." Conner shrugged.

"If you say so. But he ran…remember that, Tim. _He_ ran from _you_. He didn't stay and fight."

"But if he did, he has the advantage of power." Cassie pointed out.

"Not to mention the lack of respect for human life." Raven chipped in. "He might not mentally allow himself to fight Robin…but he'll use others against him. Innocent bystanders, you, me." _As he did before_, Tim thought.

"We're going to have to choose the next battleground. Keep him away from innocents…it's not going to be a simple, straightforward attack this time. It's going to have to be a mind-game."

* * *

To be continued… 


	30. Chapter 30

She had heard that subtlety was supposed to be a good thing. Well, not according to Tim's plan. Cass watched as he briefed, drilled, and pushed his teammates to their limit preparing for their assault on Johnny Warren. They weren't going to be subtle. They were going to go in with guns…so to speak… blazing…again. Cass hadn't quite figured out what was going to be different about this attack. Tim wasn't exactly sharing his every thought with her lately.

Which brought her to another question. What _had_ happened in Gotham that made Tim even more withdrawn than he had been over the last few days? She figured…_hoped_…he'd tell her when he was ready. But for now…

"Cass, are you listening to me?" She refocused her gaze at Tim's demand, raising an eyebrow at his irritated expression.

"No." He blinked for a few seconds at her forthright answer, then scowled.

"Well, _start_, all right?" She didn't respond, making him feel like a heel. Straightening defensively, he continued, "I need you to go with Bart and find where Johnny's holed himself up. See if there's anything you can see that might help us defeat him."

"Ok." Her easy acceptance quickly deflated his sails. Glancing back to where his teammates worked on various assignments, and determining they were all preoccupied enough to ignore his encounter with Cass, he sighed.

"Why do you have to do that?"

"What?" Tim ground his teeth at her innocent query. After all, she _knew_ "what". Fighting the urge to shake her, he simply crossed his arms and shot her a look. Cass grinned in response and shrugged.

"You're too…" she frowned, searching for the right words.

"Serious? Intense? _Grumpy?_" He fired the adjectives like gunshots, his voice short and clipped. Cass waited patiently, eyeing him a bit sadly.

"Yes. But you have reason." Again, Tim deflated. Some part of him thought he'd prefer she give him a reason to lash out…to fight. But, logically, he knew that would get them nowhere.

"That's no excuse," he said with a sigh. "I shouldn't let personal feelings get in the way…they'll cause mistakes, make me…"

"Human?" He glared at her but she shrugged it off easily. "You _are _human. Even Batman makes _some_ mistakes." At his raised eyebrow she grinned. "Ok, not many. But don't get rid of your feelings so you…aren't human anymore. _Use_ them. Make them make you better. Stronger. And…let people help." She glanced over at his friends and nodded. "They are a good team. You…make each other better." Tim ran a hand over his face.

"Cass…"

"Hey Bird Boy!" Tim stifled a moan as Conner jogged over to them. "Can't you find something for him to _do_?" he aimed a thumb at Bart who zipped up behind him. "He's…"

"I didn'tdoanything!" Bart piped up, intent on defending himself from Conner's slander.

"You did too! You.."

"Did not! Didnotdidnotdidnot!"

"_Enough!_" Both of them shut up at Tim's outburst. Cass held back a laugh at his pained expression, while Bart and Conner looked as if they were standing too close to a ticking bomb. "Conner, you're supposed to be working on target practice with Cassie and…"

"I _was! _But…"

"_And_…Bart," Tim continued as if Conner hadn't spoken, "_you_ are supposed to be scouting for Warren's location."

"You said I had to take Batgirl and I was just waiting for you to finish and you were like talking for a _week_!" Tim rolled his eyes.

"It was five minutes. And we're done…so suit up and get going." He flashed a brief glance in Cass' direction, receiving an encouraging smile in return before she pulled on her cowl. An instant later they were gone.

"You really think this is going to work?" Conner leaned back against the wall, eyeing Tim's frustrated countenance.

"Of course it will."

"I'm not saying us boxing him in and letting the two of you fight it out is a _bad_ idea…" Tim snorted in disbelief at that, "but you said it was going to be largely psychological, not physical."

"We have to take him out." Tim turned and stalked off, signaling an end to the conversation.

"I know _that_. I'm just sayin'…" Conner kept pace easily, "that you could use a _lot_ more 'psychological' than just hoping the sight of you will scare him into submission. He may be freaked out by you, but you know a cornered rat fights that much harder." Tim paused and gave him a look.

"_Thank_ you, Yoda. I'm working on that angle…I just need some time." And he _was_, Tim told himself as Conner shrugged and flew off to practice some more. It was just…taking a while, that was all. And the distractions didn't help. Shaking his head, he walked out of the room. Maybe some peace and quiet would help him concentrate.

* * *

A cold sweat dripped down the sides of Robin's face as he crouched in the shadows. The rest of the Titans were likewise concealed, waiting for his signal. It had been less than an hour since Bart and Cass had returned from their search with the location of Johnny Warren's hideout. Bart had been bursting to tell what they'd found, while Cassandra had been more subdued, though still able to give her own impressions of Warren himself. How had she put it?

"He's confident…but…not. On the outside. Inside, he's…a duck." Bart had cracked up at this and corrected her slip. Warren was a _chicken_…not a _duck_! Cass had shrugged it off, saying "whatever" and rolling her eyes, but Tim was sure it had irritated her to mess up. She was always touchy about not wanting to be thought of as stupid. Anyway, they had moved quickly, gathering the rest of the team and heading off to Warren's lair. Now they lay in wait, prepared to launch into action and surround Warren. But, unless he went after them, they weren't to touch him. He was Robin's.

The tactic was intended to allow Robin to be the one to take Warren down, but it also aided from a psychological standpoint…Warren would be boxed in…nowhere to run. He would be forced to fight what was, in his mind, an unbeatable enemy. It would be the perfect trap…or so Robin hoped. He still felt that he was missing something but, for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what.

Signaling to the others, Robin dropped from his hiding place. Warren had just rounded the corner of the building he'd holed up in, entering the deserted alley where the entrance was hidden. He was accompanied by two bodyguards, and apparently had no clue he was in any danger. The Titans, following Robin's lead, also came out of their hiding places, taking down Warren's bodyguards in a matter of seconds and shifted to create an impenetrable wall blocking any escape attempt on Warren's part.

Warren raised his hands, as if preparing to attack, but hesitated, seeming to struggle against some internal force. _The demon_, Robin thought, stepping out of the shadow he had dropped into so that Warren would see him. A blank look came over Warren's face, followed, almost instantaneously, by rage.

"_You_!" He lashed out with his demonic powers, giving a frustrated roar as Robin narrowly avoided the blast. Oblivious to the warning of the demon within, Warren launched himself into the attack. It seemed Conner had been right…he fought a _lot_ more fiercely when cornered.

"That's enough, Johnny!" Robin taunted him, dancing just out of physical reach, nimbly avoiding the blasts of energy and objects his opponent threw at him. The words were calculated to further enrage Warren, preventing him from heeding the demon's frantic calls for caution.

"I'm going to _kill_ you!" Warren roared. He lunged forward, trying to catch Robin in a strangle-hold, but Robin easily evaded him, laughing in his face.

"Kill me? You haven't got a chance! You're nothing but a two-bit thug!" Robin laughed again, though this time it was at his own words…he himself had classified Johnny Warren as a major threat, not a two-bit thug… yet he knew that insulting him, questioning his power, would help keep Warren off-balance with enough anger to hopefully accomplish their goal. And it was working.

Warren was so focused on getting to Robin, destroying him, that he didn't notice the way his body was being drained of all energy…much as it had the last time he'd seriously faced Robin. Grinning now, confident of their plan's success, Robin leaped forward, intending to deliver a swift kick to Warren's abdomen, thinking the fight was all but over. He felt his booted foot connect with Warren's chest, but apparently he'd overestimated the amount of power Warren had already lost. There was a brief flash of light just behind his eyes, then everything went black.

* * *

She needed to relax. A sentiment that had been repeated through the years by friends, family, and colleagues alike. Babs shook her head as she found herself using the same command on herself. She had picked up the phone no less than eight times in the past five hours…each time sure that Tim was in trouble. Increased heart rate, elevated blood pressure, increased respiratory rate…all of which could be signs of a fight, fear, trouble…but they could also represent excitement or just the increased physical activity that accompanied the job of young superhero. She repeatedly cursed the lack of more sophisticated surveillance equipment.

Tim was fine. He'd proven himself countless times in innumerable cases against superior, even "undefeatable" foes. And he had the Titans and Cassandra backing him up. With a nod, Babs told herself to stop worrying and focus on the uprising in Bhutan that Black Canary was on her way to help deal with. She wheeled herself towards her central workstation, intent on gathering the information Dinah would need. As she brought up the files, a shrill beeping echoed through her room. She jumped, startled, and told her racing heart to chill. After all, hadn't she just admitted that the past eight alarms had been false ones?

Shaking her head, she turned back to the console that displayed Tim's vitals. She would have to recalibrate it, she thought, so it didn't go off except for in _real_ emergencies. Reaching out, she toggled the switch to bring up the data that was causing the alarm. As the screen blinked to life, Babs felt the blood drain from her whole body. Her fingers fumbled for the phone, and she cursed her clumsiness as it cost her precious seconds. Her hand still trembling she punched in a number.

"Wally? It's Babs…you've got to get to Cairo _now._ It's Tim…he's…" her voice caught, "…he's…_dead._"

* * *

To be continued… 


	31. Chapter 31

When you're the fastest man alive, the feeling that time was standing still was an everyday occurrence. The feeling was that normal time, for normal people, had stopped all around you, and that you had all the time in the world. As Flash raced across the Atlantic Ocean, he cursed the fact that even _he_ couldn't move instantaneously…that for once time seemed to be racing on without him, no matter how hard he tried to keep up.

It had taken him only a few milliseconds after he'd received Babs' call to be in costume and on his way. Another two seconds to get from the middle of the country to the water's edge, and now he was pushing a grand total of five seconds as he zoomed onto the sandy shores of western Africa. Five precious seconds that would never be regained….seconds in which the likelihood that Tim Drake's heart would remained silenced forever increased.

He skidded to a stop in the middle of a battle…after another wasted three seconds canvassing the city searching for Robin…with the Titans ranged against one rather emaciated man. They didn't even realize that Tim was unconscious yet…let alone the fact that he may never wake up. They registered surprise at his appearance, and would have questioned him…Superboy looked particularly annoyed at having an adult interrupt…but he was already performing a super-speed version of CPR.

The import of his actions didn't register with everyone at first…in fact, they could barely see what he was doing, and were only vaguely worried as they realized it had been quite a few seconds since Robin had moved. Kid Flash was the first who grasped the meaning, with Batgirl and Raven, their mind and body-reading abilities aiding them, close behind. In a typically impulsive move, Kid Flash let out a howl of rage and attacked Johnny Warren.

The attack obviously catching Warren off-guard, he was hard-pressed to defend himself. The demon had put up one last burst of energy to deflect Robin's attack, and this new threat was a rush of unpredictable power...power that was doing its best to destroy him.

"Bart, stop!" Forgetting to be careful with identities as she realized his intent, Batgirl launched herself into the fray. She could feel her heart pounding, her hands trembling, as she forced herself to control the same impulse that had Kid Flash in its grip. She wouldn't think about Tim…about the chance that Flash wouldn't be able to save him. She just had to…

Every single one of the Titans hit the ground as a tremendous explosion split the air. Raven, recognizing the opening, managed to send her power out, covering the fleeing demon who, sensing his immanent demise, had abandoned Johnny Warren' body and tried to escape into one of the many hosts nearby. The dark energy surrounded and swallowed the demon, then disappeared with a _pop_.

With a shuddering gasp, Robin's body jerked and twitched…then he was curling into a fetal position, coughing and hacking…drawing in shaky breaths and wondering what he was going to have to do to get the elephant that was currently trampling his head to stop. Flash, still kneeling by his side, was also breathing heavily, his eyes closed against the flow of relief that Robin lived. The other Titans, still dazed by the explosion, weren't even entirely sure what had happened in the last few seconds. Superboy cast a confused look at Robin and Flash, whose appearance and interference he couldn't figure out. Wonder Girl was busy helping Raven to her feet while Kid Flash shook his head, trying to get the ringing in his ears to stop.

Robin risked opening his eyes, only to have the sunlight pierce into them and, he was afraid, blind him forever. With a groan, he struggled to a sitting position, his eyes once again firmly closed. There was a crushing pain in his chest and he found himself back on the pavement, something pinning him down. The pain didn't stop, and he felt himself being crushed in a vice. With a gasp, he struggled to pry the offending object off of him, only to have the grip tighten. He opened his eyes again, this time to be met only with stars as his air was cut off.

Vainly he pushed at the restricting bands again, believing them to be one of Warren's attacks, then found himself both surprised and relieved to feel them loosen. As he drew in deep gulps of fresh air, his vision cleared…and nearly knocked him unconscious again. Batgirl had latched onto him and was apparently trying to squeeze what little life he had left back out of him.

"Bat…girl…" She raised her head at his weak protest. She could tell he was in pain…and somewhat disoriented…but she couldn't bring herself to let go. He was _alive_! That's all that mattered…now. For a few heart-stopping moments she'd thought…but that was then. Now all was again right in her world, for a little while, anyway.

"You're ok!" She was tempted to hug him again, but his painful wince finally registered and she pulled back. "Or…not. You ok?"

"No." He grimaced. "But I…"

"Hey! Robin, you all right?" He was cut off as the rest of the Titans finally realized something had happened and made their way over to him. Wonder Girl cast him a worried glance and he tried to smile to reassure her.

"Yeah…sure. Just a bit…sore." He used a light tone, playing down his injuries, but the truth was there was still a sharp pain in his chest and a burning sensation in his lungs…even with Batgirl no longer squeezing him to death. He noticed her sharp glance, but she didn't contradict him.

"Man! That was…weird. Anyone actually know what just happened?" Superboy rubbed his head, feeling sore from the effects the demon's magic had caused as it sought to escape. His teammates shook their heads, though Raven didn't respond at all. Flash, having recovered from his own fright and subsequent endeavors on Robin's behalf, rose, drawing attention to himself.

"I think the questions might be better suited to someplace more secure." With some muttered agreement… and some _dis_agreement on where that place should be…the Titans decided to withdrawal to the warehouse for now.

* * *

It had taken some delicate maneuvering, not to mention the near-use of force in a couple instances, but the Titans, meaning Tim, had finally convinced Flash that he _didn't_ need to hover over them like a starched-up algebra teacher. They were all fine, all alive, and they _really _didn't feel like explaining the whole mission to an adult who would probably find all sorts of flaws and reasons to threaten to take away their heroing-privileges…at which point Bart had protested, saying Wally wasn't _that_ bad, and more arguing had ensued.

But finally the Titans were alone in their warehouse. Tim found himself vaguely thinking he'd miss it once they left. He shook his head…he obviously needed a break. But first…

"Ok, guys, settle down. We need to go over what happened…figure everything out." And he needed to be sure that the demon and Warren _wouldn't_ be coming back this time. His friends groaned and made a few comments about Bat-obsessiveness, but they gathered around their make-shift table with a minimum of fuss.

"What's there to figure?" Conner commented, "The bad-guy blew-up, end of story." Cassie threw Conner a disgusted look and even Bart screwed up his face with a "Geeze, Kon" muttered under his breath. For his part, Tim didn't react at all, except to raise one eyebrow as he waited for them to quiet back down.

Personally, he thought this lack of reaction spoke well for his self-control, as the fact that Warren had died in the fight was an added sore to the already legion aches, pains, and bruises to his body and soul.

"True, but we should at least go over what went wrong, what went right, and if we're absolutely sure the demon is trapped." This last was said with a glance in Raven's direction, and she gave a slight nod. Her face looked even more drawn than normal, the shadows under her eyes darker, and the taughtness in her cheeks more pronounced.

"He is." Seeing that more would be required from her, Raven drew in a deep breath. "The demon was tied for centuries to an artifact. From what I gathered when I...um...captured it, it had to have a human host or return to the artifact it came from...those were the only two ways for it to survive." She glanced down, deep in thought. "The object was somehow molded into Johnny Warren when the demon possessed him. Without time to..to..separate it, the demon had no choice but to find another human host. When the demon sensed Warren was going to lose, that he was draining all the power both from the demon and from his own life-source, it tried to escape."

"Yeah, we got that part." Conner cut in with a shudder. Although the event had happened so fast the Titans barely knew what was happening at the time, they could all remember the instant they recognized that Tim may be dead and the demon had intended on taking over one of them...had Raven not swallowed it first.

"Well...so it's trapped...and I'm not sure it can survive for long."

"So, you're sure it hasn't possessed you?" Tim knew she may take offense, but the question had to be asked.

"I'm sure." And no one questioned Raven when she used that particular tone of voice. Wisely deciding it was time to move on, Tim cleared his throat.

"Ok. So...no worries on that front."

"And what about 'what went wrong' huh?" Conner piped up, giving Tim a dirty look. "I do believe you said this was to be a psychological attack. You said you'd be fighting him, sure, but not just with physical weapons...what the _hell_ happened to the mental attacks you had all planned out?" Cassandra bridled at Conner's tone, all set to leap to Tim's defense...after all, he'd just died and been revived...couldn't the argument wait a few days? But Tim shook his head and indicated for her to chill.

"I admit it. I didn't plan as well as I should have." He dropped his gaze, not comfortable confessing this to his friends and allies...people who weren't supposed to see his vulnerabilities, his weaknesses. "I was in such a hurry to get it done...and...well, of course there was the whole 'this guy killed my dad' aspect...and...I wasn't thinking clearly. I hadn't come up with any good psychological weapons by the time we had planned to attack and instead of postponing the operation, I told myself that it would come to me. Or that maybe just being forced to fight me would be enough. I was wrong."

There was a few moments of stunned silence. Not necessarily because Tim, Robin, the 'boy wonder' and all that, had confessed to making a mistake, but more because...well, because he'd felt so alone. As Conner would have said, had he had the vocal capacity to do so at the time, "like, none of us make mistakes?"

Tim had pulled all of them out of crises and mistakes countless times. But he hadn't felt free to come to them for the same aid. And now each of them were fighting their own reactions...hurt, confusion, irritation...after all, you couldn't expect Superboy to admit to something like hurt feelings...but

underneath even these negative emotions was the recognition that he had probably been justified. After all, he was the "leader"...the one they turned to. Though they'd offered their help, had he really been able to believe in it? He was trained not to show weakness...

"S'ok." Five pairs of eyes swung towards Cassandra, who gave four of them fierce glares as if to say "I said, it's ok...now agree!" and patted Tim's shoulder trying to be comforting. The image was so incongruous to what most people thought about Batgirl, that Bart started giggling. His attempts to cover it up led to Conner and Cassie chortling along with him, and even Tim grinned as he shook his head.

"Thanks, Cass. But I should have trusted you guys more. I'll tell you what, being dead really puts things in perspective." This statement had the effect of successfully dampening the humor and bringing depression back down on the group.

Tim rolled his eyes. "No, really. Come on, guys. I'm not dead now. And I'm going to try to be a better team-member...and friend." With that pronouncement, the meeting adjourned into teary-eyed snuffly "aww's" from Cassie, which led to a mocking shove from Conner at her mushy emotions and a laughing slap on the back to Tim, which nearly send Tim back into unconsciousness...whoops. Bart got into the spirit of relief by zipping around the room at superspeed hundreds of times. Even Raven smiled a knowing look in Tim's direction. And for the first time in weeks, Tim felt a twitch…something akin to humor, yet not tainted by darkness.

He smiled.

* * *

To Be Continued… 


	32. Chapter 32

The Titans were gone. The warehouse stood nearly empty again. Tim sighed as he glanced around one more time to make sure they hadn't left anything vital lying around. It was nearly four hours after the defeat of Johnny Warren and, after the short meeting and a longer, if impromptu, celebration, the team had eventually broken up and his friends had returned to their respective homes. Now the warehouse echoed with each step, magnifying every sound to eerie proportions. Reaching the conclusion that nothing _had_ been left behind, Tim heaved a sigh, wincing at the twinge in his ribs, and sat down on a packing crate, chin propped on his hands.

It was in this position that Cassandra found him a few minutes later. Seeing that his earlier lightness had deserted him and he was staring rather morosely into space, she shook her head and crossed the room towards him. He showed no indication that he noticed her approach, but didn't jump when she laid a hand on his shoulder.

"You didn't kill him, you know." He shrugged away her remark, straightening after a quick glance at her face.

"I wanted to." He meant the words to shock her, but she remained unaffected, only giving him a slight smile and nudging him over so that she, too, could sit on the crate.

"Yes. But you didn't. The demon did. He did it to himself, too."

"Yeah…he did that before. Disintegrated…made me think I killed him." Suspecting that Tim was wondering if Warren had tricked him again, Cass tried to reassure him.

"But Raven said he really _is_…" she broke off as a glare was aimed in her direction.

"I _know_ that!" he said, scornfully. "I just…" he flashed her a covert glance, "…I thought it would…I dunno…"

"Would make you feel better?" He flushed, but nodded. "Oh, Tim." She shook her head at him sympathetically.

"Well I _knew_ it wouldn't…but I couldn't help…hoping, I guess. But Warren's death won't bring back my dad." She nodded silently. "I thought I would be content with 'justice'…but I _wanted_ him to die and yet, now…it's empty. Pointless." He closed his eyes, saying, "_I'm_ empty…pointless."

"That's not true!" she cried indignantly. He shrugged. "It's _not_. You are _Robin_. That's not pointless. And even if you _weren't_, you're _Tim_…and…and that's even more!" He glanced at her in surprise, seeing moisture threatening in her eyes. He blinked in stunned amazement, then searched for a tissue or something in some panic. The look on his face made her laugh, dispelling his fears that she was going to do something he had been sure, up till now, was completely foreign to her. She stopped giggling and sighed.

"Um…you ok?" Tim asked warily. She nodded.

"Yeah. You just…you're so _stupid_ sometimes!" she said, lightly punching his shoulder. He winced, reminding her of his injuries and she quickly apologized.

"Nah. Doesn't really hurt _that_ much...I guess." He grinned at her, and she was relieved to see he was coming out of his depression. "I supposed we should probably be heading back to Gotham." It was said with some reluctance, and she realized she still didn't know what had happened on his brief trip back…though whatever it was, it seemed to have been pretty bad for him to be loath to return home.

"Yeah." She agreed, though she remained seated as he rose. He glanced back at her, eyebrow raised, and she shrugged and stood. She supposed it didn't _really_ matter…and she was _mostly_ sure he'd tell her…sooner or later. But a slight hesitation on his part at the doorway changed her mind and she reached out, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"What?" He glanced at her quizzically, put on his guard by the serious look on her face.

"Before…we go back…" she bit her lip nervously, then took the plunge, pulling him towards her and catching him off-guard with a much-more-passionate kiss than the one they'd shared…was it only two days ago?...out on Cairo's crowded streets. For a few seconds Tim's brain nearly shut down…he _certainly_ wasn't thinking about any negative aspects of returning to Gotham. His hands came up to grip her arms convulsively…but instead of pushing her away, he simply held on. It had been too long…far too long since he'd had someone to hold onto…to give him the emotional support he would swear to his dying day he didn't need.

Cass pulled back, ending the kiss with a sense very similar to abject terror…fearing the blow to come. Oh, not a _physical_ blow…not as Cain had responded to any attempt at physical signs of affection… with violence…fighting. But the emotional blow of rejection...after all, she'd only really kissed, or _tried_ to kiss, one person before, and he had been too terrified at the time to really pay attention…and though the Bat-clan was close, she certainly hadn't _kissed_ any of _them_. Well…not until now, that is. She knew Tim wasn't going to backhand her or anything so brutal…but the fear was still there…fear that rejection from him would be more painful than any of the cruelties Cain had put her through.  
Realizing that her mind was babbling, she swallowed nervously, and sneaked a peek at Tim's face, startled and relieved to find he looked just as nervous and unsure as she felt. She felt a smile tugging at her lips as Tim drew her back for a second kiss…much in the manner of someone trying a new food…tasting it again, having been surprised to like it the first time around. _This_ mental image almost had the ruinous effect of sending her into giggles, except that Tim was so much _better_ at kissing than she was…making _this_ kiss even more distracting than the one she'd just bestowed on him.

"I…" the kiss ended, Cass was at a loss how to proceed. Faltering she took, in her mind, the coward's way out…she changed the subject. "Tim, what's wrong? _Really_?" Not surprisingly, this had the effect of throwing Tim into confusion, and he stared at her blankly for a few moments, thinking she'd thought something wrong with the _kiss_.

"No-Nothing!" he stammered. She scowled at this response and he hastily backtracked. "I…I mean…um…well…" giving a short laugh, he shook his head. "No, _really_, Cass. Nothing's wrong. Nothing at all." This last was added in an under voice, almost as if he hadn't meant to speak aloud.

"Then _why_ don't you want to go back to Gotham!" she demanded. Understanding lit his face, and he laughed again, shortly, then grimaced. Sensing correctly that he was wincing, not in pain, but from the wish that he didn't have to discuss the subject, Cass held his gaze with a baleful stare. Tim ran a hand nervously through his hair and turned away from her, pacing to the door and back agitatedly.

"I…I don't _know_. It's just…this whole time…especially since we left Gotham, you know? It's been unreal. I knew what had happened. I knew my father was…well, that was the _point_, you see? But it was still…now I'm going to have to go back. To take up life as if nothing happened? And that life…! Ha!" that mysterious but cynical utterance made no sense to Cass, but as for the rest….

"You don't want to return to 'that life?" she swallowed the fear that he meant to abandon his role as Robin. To quit as he once had…which meant no more nighttime adventures, no laughing at stupid crooks or knowing the satisfaction of a job well done. And…since Cass didn't _really_ have much of a civilian identity…it _could_ mean he'd walk out of her life forever.

"No…" Tim, oblivious to the jumbled thoughts racing through Cass' mind, pondered the subject. "No, it's just…when my dad died, it was like something inside me broke. Shattered into a billion pieces. And…I know that it can be put back together, but…but it won't be the same. Everything has changed." Relief that he didn't mean to quit coursed though Cass, but one thing caught her attention.

"Sometimes…sometimes change is _good_?" She ended the comment with a query…hoping he'd agree with the statement, but not sure he would. His eyes met hers, startled, and she wondered about it…until she realized he was thinking about the kiss. _Their_ relationship had changed, too. And, _hopefully_, that _was_ a good thing.

"Yeah…." He drew the word out, the gave a half-grin. "Yeah. Sometimes it's good." They fell into a comfortable silence, just trying to absorb everything. After a few minutes, Tim shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. Cass waited, but he didn't say anything.

"What?" she asked, rolling her eyes at his sudden reticence.

"Well…you know those changes we were talking about?" She raised an eyebrow in affirmation. He swallowed. "There…there's another one. Kind of a big one." From his demeanor, she supposed it was a bad one, and braced herself.

"What is it?" Her voice must have cued him in, because he raised his head and hastened to reassure her.

"No, no! It's not _bad_…well…that is…I don't _think_ it is…exactly." He was slipping back into incoherence, and Cass sighed.

"If it's not _bad_…what _is_ it?"

"Well…it's just…Dana didn't have any legal rights to me…never adopted me and so…" he took a deep breath, the rest of the words rushing out of him in a way that rivaled Bart's delivery. "And so she and Bruce were talking and since she knows about Robin and everything and they didn't want her to have to go through a whole long court deal especially since I'll be eighteen in just over a year and so they decided that Bruce is going to smooth it all over and adopt me." This said, he half-winced and waited for her judgment.

Recalling that Tim had already felt guilty that he had looked on Bruce as more of a father-figure than his own dad, Cass could see how this would be causing the inner turmoil Tim was exhibiting.

"This is…_good_, though. Right?" Tim shrugged. She persisted. "He won't try to replace your father, Tim. You know that."

"Yeah. I know _he_ won't." She shook her head.

"And neither will you. They are different people. You can't try to compare. Not how you feel about them. Your father was…human. He had flaws. You still loved him, even if you couldn't express it or relate to him. Bruce…is human too." She grinned suddenly. "You will fight, you know." He chuckled.

"No kidding."

"Um…what about…Dana?" She knew Tim had cared for his step-mother, and Cass hoped that she wouldn't just abandon him.

"She'll be around. Still living in Gotham…but she wants to sell the apartment." Understandably, Cass thought. "And…she said she still wants to be involved…you know, be kept in the loop and everything."

"Good. She is good for you." Tim nodded.

"Yeah." Another few moments passed without speaking. Cass shuffled her feet, her mind wandering as Tim gathered his thoughts.

"So…can we go home now?" He looked up at her question, and smiled. He reached down and took hold of her hand, squeezing it a little in an unspoken message.

"Yeah. Let's go home."

_FIN_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I just want to thank everyone who's been patient enough to stick with me as I took _forever_ writing this! I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed…reviews are the life-blood of an author, you know.

As for me, I have a bit of an announcement. As much as I love fan-fiction, life has it's way of interfering (hence the incredible amount of time it took to write and get this story written). Add to that the increasing desire to be able to write something that may, someday, be able to be published (read: no copyright laws to impede) I have decided to take a break from fanfic and am going to try my hand at creating my own characters, stories, and worlds. Perhaps I'll still find time and inspirations to do some "shorts", but as for these epic Fanfics, don't look for new ones any time soon.

Thanks again to everyone who has supported me and my stories!

Z


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